


Outside the Lines

by katnissdoesnotfollowback (lost_on_cloud_9)



Series: Outside Chance [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mentions of verbal abuse, it's only seven years...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-05-08 14:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 63,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14696208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_on_cloud_9/pseuds/katnissdoesnotfollowback
Summary: Blue lines painted on the outside edges of alpine courses help guide skiers as they race downhill at high speeds, sometimes as fast as 70 mph. On freestyle ski courses, the blue lines provide contrast between sharp edges and blind dips in the course, giving airborne and sometimes upside down athletes a point of reference in an otherwise completely white set of obstacles. The lines are guides, not rules. You don’t have to stay inside the lines. Which is good, because Ryen Mellark’s never been too fond of rules...A series of missing scenes, outtakes, short chapters, what have you from the world of "Outside Chance," featuring Primrose and Ryen.





	1. Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters were written as outtakes to the Main story "Outside Chance" as inspiration came to me. Which means they're not in perfect chronological order. I'll post that order in the notes for those who prefer to read in time order rather than the crazy order of inspiration. This order might change as we go because yeah...there's at least one planned that goes between chapter 2 and chapter 1.
> 
> Chronological Order -  
> Chapter 2: Croissants  
> Chapter 3: Waffles  
> Chapter 4: Muffins  
> Chapter 1: Pancakes  
> Chapter 5: Zucchini Bread  
> Chapter 6: Omelets  
> Chapter 7: Room Service  
> Chapter 8: Quiche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RATED E for explicit language, explicit sexual content, discussions of verbal abuse. There may be more later, we’re flying by the seat of our pants with these two because they stole the keys to the car and I’m just along for the ride here. 
> 
> Which also means I have no idea how many chapters this will wind up being. This chapter takes place in conjunction with chapter 20 of Outside Chance...which will be very obvious by the end, but I figure it might help to know where we are before we start with this one.
> 
> For Buttercupbadass, who is about 90% responsible for this actually becoming a thing as well as basically spoon-feeding me summaries and dialogue for these two. I swear it’s all her brilliance, I just fill in the details. I salute you, Captain BBA.

“Three brunettes and a blonde walk into a bar,” Laura says and Heather snorts.

“Genetically speaking, you’re blonde too, Laura,” Heather says.

“I’m brunette where it matters. Here,” she pats her chest over her heart and Heather rolls her eyes.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I ignore the ridiculous argument playing out in favor of checking the message I just got. It’s a little early to be Katniss, but she’s racing today/tomorrow, depending on which time zone you’re in, and I don’t want to miss my chance to wish her luck. The timing is delicate what with the ocean between us right now and all.

Only it’s not from Katniss.

**_Ryen Mellark: Hey. I’m in town for a couple days. Care to meet up?_ **

A quick thrill zaps through me as I think about my answer carefully.

_ Can’t. Busy. _

**_School? I can make power snacks while you study._ **

_ Or you could let me concentrate. _

**_Are you calling me a distraction?_ **

_ I was going to use “diversion.” Sounds nicer. _

“Prim!” Janice shouts and laughs when I look up to see they’ve already claimed a spot for us at the bar. I hurry over to join them, typing out my good luck message to Katniss while I’m thinking about it and hoping it doesn’t wake her. Once it goes through, I set my phone aside on the bar.

“Sorry. Amaretto sour, please,” I tell the bartender and hoist myself onto the stool next to Janice. 

“So like I was saying earlier,” Janice says and launches into a complaint about one of her professors. Our drinks arrive and the girls take turns venting. We’ve just gotten to my turn when my phone vibrates and dances on the polished wood surface, the screen lighting up with Ryen’s smiling face. Before I can grab it, Janice looks down and her eyes bulge.

“Ryen Mellark? Is that really  _ the  _ Ryen Mellark calling you?”

“Oh, yeah,” I say and try to wave it off. I snatch my phone up and decline the call. Tuck it into my back pocket and suck alcohol through my straw.

“You know him? Like for real? Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Janice asks, her voice getting a little squeaky.  “Why didn’t you answer?”

“He’s just an old family friend,” I say. Now they’re all staring at me a little starry-eyed mixed with bug-eyed. Crap. This is why I didn’t tell them anything. They’re all avid skiing fans and follow the whole circus. I just knew they’d react like this. Almost worse than Katniss would if she knew the truth.

Katniss. That gives me an idea.

I take another sip of my drink and smile at my friends with a nonchalant shrug. “We sort of grew up together. I mean, as much as you could with someone seven years older than you who was always on the road. But anyways, my parents used to work for his grandfather--”

“What? Where?” Laura asks.

“You mean at Skadi?” Janice talks over her and I suppress a groan. Of course she would have stalker level knowledge of him. I won’t be able to get away with too many lies.

“Yeah,” I say and plow forward before they can dissect that or ask why I neglected to tell them where I grew up. “My sister is actually dating his brother and--”

“Katniss is dating Graham Mellark? When did that happen?”

“I thought Graham was married?” The confusion makes sense. They’re into downhill and freestyle ski, not so much the cross country and Nordic stuff.

“No, no. Graham  _ is _ married. There’s a third brother,” I correct and Janice makes an aroused choking noise.

“There’s three of them? How did I not know this?”

“Yep,” I say with a tight smile and pull out my phone, glad my gambit got their attention off of Ryen at least.

“Does he ski, too?”

I feel a short twinge of guilt at throwing rabid ski fans at my sister’s boyfriend, but he’s so in love with Katniss that I have no doubt my friends would get less than nowhere with Peeta if they were to ever cross paths. Charlize Theron could drop naked out of the sky in front of him and offer him ten orgasms a day however he wants them for the rest of his life in exchange for leaving Katniss, and I’d bet everything I will ever own in life including my soul on Peeta turning that offer down without even blinking.

I ignore the missed call and two new text messages from Ryen to bring up my pictures and open the album I created of shots they sent me from New Zealand. Time to deflect attention.

“He’s a snowboarder,” I say and turn the screen around for my girls to see. “This is Peeta. He’s an absolute sweetie and totally the hottest of the three.”

“Oh my god!”

“Talk about winning the genetics lottery in one family.”

“Is he really dating Katniss?”

“Very much. Go ahead, scroll through,” I tell them and Janice does so while the other two look over her shoulder. I know there’s at least one picture in there that Ryen took, and I’m not even sure Katniss is aware of its existence, of her and Peeta. He’s smiling, she’s laughing. Their love for each other is knee meltingly obvious in the way they look at one another. So obvious that it makes you root for them and hate them all at once.

“How come we’ve never heard about him?” Laura whines. “Oh fuck me, those eyes!”

“You sure that’s Katniss? I’ve never seen her smile like that,” Janice murmurs, looking up at me, wide eyed.

“I know, right? He’s been out of competition for a long time because he was injured. Like a decade. He just got back into it this year. He’s actually in para snowboarding,” I explain and then a knot of dread fills me as Heather smirks.

“Uh, Primmy? Ryen’s texting you now.”

“I’m serious. I’ve still got Dad’s salted caramel brulee cheesecake recipe memorized. Just point me towards a decent grocery store close to your place,” Janice reads, her voice lifting at the end, turning what I am sure is a statement into a question. 

“He can cook?” Based on her voice, I think Laura just had a mini orgasm.

“His dad used to be the head chef at Skadi. All three of them covered shifts everywhere at that place, so yeah, they all picked up a few things in the kitchens.” I snatch my phone back and smile at them before quickly reading the ignored text messages, basically Ryen offering to cook and feed me all my favorite foods while I get my school work done.

_ I’m not at home right now. _

**_Library?_ **

“What’s he want?” Janice asks and I look up to find all of them watching me expectantly. I realize then that I’m not getting out of this at all. The girls won’t let me. 

“Come on, Prim. You somehow know the hottest guy in competitive skiing and he wants to make you cheesecake? And you’ve never shared that with us?”

“Greedy,” Laura teases. I bite back a retort and search for another way to deflect.

Well this, among other reasons, is exactly why I agreed to not tell anyone. To keep things casual only. But I do love my friends. I can’t bring myself to deny them their fangirling now that they know.

“Alright, but you guys cannot be weird, okay?”

“We’ll be cool,” Janice insists. I don’t believe them at all. Especially not when I send Ryen the name of the bar I’m at and tell him that I’m out with friends but that he’s welcome to join us, all while my friends twitter like a flock of lovesick birds. Maybe I should play up Peeta’s attractiveness a little more… Shouldn’t have emphasized his unavailability so much. I’m off my deflection game tonight.

**_I was hoping for some time alone with you_ **

Biting the inside of my cheek, I try to quell the flurry of butterflies that Ryen’s response to my invite sets off.

_ Maybe later.  _

_ If you’re good. _

**_Tease._ **

**_How much do your friends know?_ **

**_So I know how to behave_ **

_ I’ve kept our agreement. _

I set my phone aside after that while my friends grill me on what it was like growing up with Ryen and the other two Mellark boys at Skadi. I keep to the happier stuff and I’m on my second Amaretto sour when Janice grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin through my blouse. I turn and spot Ryen at the door. Someone else who recognizes him has already snared his attention. Ryen smiles as he talks to the guy, all cool blue eyes and smooth demeanor as they shift to take a selfie.

When they’re done, Ryen’s eyes sweep over the bar and I lift my hand to wave at him. It takes a few more minutes for him to make his way over to us. We’re close to the Olympic Committee Headquarters, so he’s not exactly a stranger in these parts.

While he’s polite and takes time to give each person attention, I notice his eyes flicking over towards me repeatedly. I turn and order a Jack and Coke for him, so it’ll be ready by the time he finally makes his way across the room.

To their credit, my girls manage to keep their panties on while they’re waiting. Although when he runs his hand through the wild shag of straight blonde hair that falls over his forehead into his eyes, Janice makes an inhuman moaning noise. I roll my eyes and thank the bartender when he brings me Ryen’s drink.

Just in time, too. As I turn in my stool, Ryen’s arm slips over the back, his fingers brushing just beneath my bra strap. I shiver and smile up at him.

“Hey Rosie,” he murmurs and leans towards me. I lift the glass between us, stopping what I suspect was a hello kiss.

“Got you a drink,” I say and his smile falters for a second but then Janice squeaks and the smile is back. He takes the drink and removes his hand from my back.

“Hello, ladies. I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says and Heather giggles. Nose in the books at all time Heather actually giggles. I hide my smile behind my drink as Ryen plays his part, smiling and flirting with my friends. He somehow remembers all of their names, puts faces with small details I’ve mentioned here and there. He showers them with attention and laughs at their jokes. No wonder he’s skiing’s hottest playboy, I think as I set my drink aside to take pictures for my friends. Their cheeks are glowing and their smiles are so wide it must hurt. A few other patrons in the bar stop by for a word and a picture. The news has spread. A room of fans is Ryen’s canvas and he’s Monet.

Every now and then I’ll catch him looking at me instead of them. Not the fun loving smirk of a guy who throws himself off a mountain for a living but something far more intense. I burn with the heat of that gaze and hope no one can see what it’s doing to me. Especially not him. That would never do.

Eventually, the crowd in the bar thins. Heather insists she needs to leave because she’s got an early class tomorrow. Janice is about three sheets to the wind, but Laura will make sure she gets home safely. Ryen assures my friends he’ll make sure I get home safely, too. After another round of hugs and pictures with Ryen, Laura turns to me and smiles.

“Don’t stay out too late, Prim. You’ve got that lunch with Jordan tomorrow, right?” she winks at me and I flush but play it off, grateful when they finally leave us alone.

“Who’s Jordan?” Ryen asks, simultaneously motioning to the bartender for another Jack and Coke. All very nonchalant.

“Partner for a project in class,” I say and Ryen turns to face me, leaning sideway on the bar.

“That it?”

“Would it matter if it weren’t?” I ask and watch Ryen trying to control his expression.

“Guess I can’t ask that, huh?”

“Not according to the terms of our agreement. You didn’t mind not knowing when we talked about this over the summer,” I remind him. His hand rests on my leg and he spins the stool so I’m facing him. His thumb traces soft circles on my knee, burning me through the denim of my jeans.

“Didn’t realize back then how hard it’d be to not care,” he whispers. I shake my head as his drink arrives, and he ignores it. We’ve been down this road twice now. Nothing has changed. He’s still gone all the time, living it up as the playboy of the ski world. I’ve still got classes to focus on. We’re not meant for any more than this.

But  _ this  _ is really fun and seriously turns me on. 

“Can’t be that hard,” I tease and Ryen smiles. He shifts my knee and steps between my legs. His hands skim up my thighs then back down as he leans towards me.

“Let’s get out of here and I’ll show you just how hard it is,” he whispers and moves to kiss me. I turn my head and bring my drink up to my lips.

“Everyone in here has a camera, Ryen,” I remind him and he freezes.

“I don’t care, Rosie.” His nose drags through my hair, over the shell of my ear, and I grip the glass in my hand as he slides me across the stool and holds my thighs tight against his hips. “Don’t you know you’re all I think about?”

“That could be dangerous,” I say, smiling and ignoring the twitter of butterflies returning. It’s just a line, even if it is a good one. “Especially given your day job.”

He leans back and I take the risk of turning my head to face him. His thumbs are drawing circles on me again. I’m feverish and unsure if it’s the alcohol or him, but either way, it’s probably about as dangerous as his profession.

“Would you be upset if I said the only time I manage to get you out of my head is when I’m flinging myself off a mountain?”

“That depends,” I say. He keeps caressing my legs, staring into my eyes, and I know he can sense my weakening resolve. I was always going to give in anyways. I just need him to know that I won’t make it easy on him. I’ve still got my dignity.

Something unspoken passes between us. He takes my glass out of my hand to set it on the bar. I release him from my legs and he pays both our tabs while I slip into my coat. My heels click on the cleared sidewalks as we make our way to where he parked. His car chirps as he unlocks it. He holds the door open for me and I smile, let my hand slide over his ass for a second before dropping into the leather seat. The cold seeps through my jeans as he starts her up and warms the engine. 

It’s only a short drive to my place, but the air is charged and ready to ignite by the time we get there. For the first time in ages, I’m glad my sister’s not here. Not when Ryen slips his hand in my back pocket while we walk up the stairs and my hands tremble as I try to unlock the door because he’s moved aside my coat collar and is kissing my neck.

I get the door open and we fall inside, coats flung aside and lips crashing together.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you like this all fucking night long,” he says as he holds my head cradled in his hands and his tongue dips in my mouth, teasing me for a just a second before he joins our lips and kisses me senseless. I don’t let him control it, nip at his lip and revel in his groans. Within minutes, we’re both panting, hair disheveled and lips swollen.

“What else have you wanted to do all night long?” I ask, breathless.

He grins and that’s all the warning I get before he’s swept me up into his arms and I squeal, my heels kicked off mid-air and landing on the floor with loud thuds. I laugh as he stumbles towards my bedroom. We crash into one wall before he rights us and gets us there.

“So far I’m not impressed with your balance,” I say and he drops me on my bed.

“Let me showcase my endurance then,” he says and I laugh again as I shimmy out of my blouse, unclasp my belt and unfasten my jeans while he does the same with his. He stops with his jeans gaping open and helps me pull mine off, dragging me across the quilt to the edge of my bed. I fling my arms over my head and close my eyes as he kisses up and down my legs. They feel endless and I’m a sparking livewire by the time he stands up and starts shoving at his jeans again.

“Fuck. I need to be inside you, Rosie.”

I shimmy out of my panties and brace my feet on the edge of the mattress, let my knees open for him so he can see as I run my hands over my body, down between my legs. He releases a sound between a whine and a groan as I bite my lip and stroke myself for him.

There’s the sound of scuffling and I open my eyes to see him fighting with his jeans and briefs. I laugh as he tosses aside the whole mess and faces me again, his hair and eyes wild. I let my eyes drop to his cock and bite my lip. He’s got a gorgeous cock. Just like the rest of him. 

As I watch, he grips himself and strokes up, down, up and plays with the head for a second while I dip two fingers inside myself and my back arches.

“Fuck,” he whispers and his hips jerk. “Okay, enough playing around. I’m gonna come just watching you.”

I keep going as he tears into a condom and rolls it on, only removing my hand from my folds when he climbs onto the bed, hovering over me on all fours, his cock brushing my belly. He slips one arm beneath me and I squeeze his shoulders before he tosses me up the bed towards the pillows.

Ryen settles between my legs, hips rocking, letting his cock stroke through my folds but not entering me. He grabs my hand and sucks my fingers clean of my arousal, moaning around them and making my clit throb.

“You’re right,” I say and hook a leg around his before rolling us over. He grins up at me as I sink onto his cock. “No more playing around.”

I remove my bra and drive my hips over his in a slowly building rhythm, watch his grin fade into a dazed look of pleasure. Switch to bouncing and live on his curses, the clench of his fingers on my hips. Just when he sounds close, I stop and rock instead. Reach back to grip his thighs.

“Oh god,” I moan and his hands roam over me as he whispers encouragement. It’s almost too much, the way his cock strokes hidden places inside me that make my belly tight with need.

“Come on, baby,” he gasps. “Fuck. Come for me, Rosie. Come for me now.”

My hips jerk and his fingers work my clit. I’m chanting nonsense and don’t care, focused solely on the bliss within my reach. I grab hold of it and cling to his thighs as it bursts through my convulsing body.

“Oh my god, yes!” I gasp and my arms buckle. Ryen pulls me down to his chest and wraps his arm around me before he flips us over. My hair covers my face and I moan with the aftershocks as he lifts my leg to drape over his shoulder, wraps the other one around his hips.

I move my hair out of the way and he thrusts down into me, eyes locked on me and mouth hanging open with his moans. He manages a few words, nothing too eloquent as he leans closer, stretching my leg and pressing it between us so he can plant a swift kiss on my lips. His hair tickles my forehead as I watch a drop of sweat slide down the bridge of his nose.

“Oh fuck! This feels so -- so fucking good. Can you come again?” he asks and I shake my head, cup his face in my palms.

“Not this time. Go ahead, Ryen.”

His eyes screw shut and his body smacks into mine again and again. For just a second, I feel need reawakening. But then he releases a string of choked moans and his hips shove me up the bed and swivel for a second or two. Rose red blooms from his cheeks and spreads down his body, down between us.

Then his body goes limp and he collapses on top of me, his heaving chest pushing at mine as he mumbles into my pillow and I run my finger nails up and down his back. He removes my leg from his shoulder and rolls off to the side, covering his face with his hands while I grab a blanket to cover my cooling body.

“Damn, Rosie,” he says and I tuck some of my crazy hair back behind my ear as I watch him recover.

He shakes his head and drops his hands to look at me. I smile and he smiles back. Ryen deals with the condom and when he collapses awkwardly back in bed next to me, I laugh. “I’d give your endurance a 7.3 out of ten.”

“That’s it?” he asks and feigns hurt as he twists and gets his hands beneath the blanket to tickle me. “Give me fifteen minutes and I can make that at least a 9.0.”

“7.3 is still a respectable score!” I squeal and writhe beneath his attack. 

“Respectable? What does Jordan score in endurance? At least tell me I beat him.”

“Scores are confidential!” I shout.

“Hmmmm. I have ways of finding out. What if I make you come a few more times and then make pancakes for you in the morning?”

“I’ll consider your offer.”

He rolls us over so that I’m on top of him in a tangle of sheets and blanket. He brushes back my hair and I prop one elbow on his chest to hold my chin. He’s smiling, but there’s danger in his blue eyes.

“Rosie...I’ll make you pancakes anyways,” he whispers and I shake my head.

“You’re only saying that because you’re jealous. For the first time ever, you think you might have some real competition for something you think you want. And you can’t stand it,” I pinch his nipple and he grabs my hand to kiss my palm.

“I’m serious.” That danger in his eyes calls to me and I pause, searching for something witty to say to keep the mood light. I come up empty.

“You’ll get over it, Ryen. You were the one who didn’t want to tell anyone about us at Skadi over the summer, to keep this casual. Telling Katniss I had a spa day scheduled to get rid of her was your idea, remember? What’s changed?”

“I don’t know. I just know I want to see more of you. Please say ‘yes,’ Rosie. We can still keep it between just us if you want.”

The kick I feel is exactly why I don’t need to see more of him. “So is it your brother or my sister you’re afraid of learning about us?”

“I can handle my brother,” Ryen says with a grin. “Your sister is another story.”

“Katniss is harmless as long as you treat me right,” I tell him, although I’m not surprised at his thoughts. There are so few people she lets see just how easily hurt she is and just how much she cares. 

“Katniss shoots at targets the size of my nuts for a living,” he says and I shrug then slide myself up his body to kiss him.

“Don’t worry. I’d only let her take a shot at one of them.” Ryen groans and wraps his arms around my waist as I laugh at his discomfort.

He flips me off him and onto my stomach, stretching my arms over my head to grab the pillow as his lips trail down my spine, his hands following and catching up then taking the lead on his way down towards my ass. He smacks it once and then tugs my hips up off the bed before sliding one hand beneath me. I gasp and hold onto the pillow as he lays on top of me, careful to keep his weight on his arm and leg as he strokes me back to a fever pitch and whispers in my ear.

“That’s what I love about you, Rosie. You keep me on my toes.”

My teeth dig into my lip as I try to contain my keening but it’s no use. I’d rather surrender to the feelings he’s creating with his hands than allow myself to read too much into his words. And it feels so good, what he’s doing with his fingers, that when he tells me to scream his name when I come, I do it. Then I hold onto the pillow for dear life as he rolls on a fresh condom and slides inside me from behind, strokes me to an orgasm that rages out of control and leaves my sheets a mess.

We sleep, sticky and naked, unable to move. 

My phone wakes me sometime in the early morning and I check the message, smiling when I see that it’s from Katniss. This season has been night and day compared to previous seasons. Not just because I hear from her more often. I’m thrilled to see her finally allow herself to be happy.

**_You have time for Skype before class?_ **

_ Sure! Just give me ten minutes! :) _

I drag myself into the bathroom and hurry through a quick shower, braiding my hair still damp and then plopping onto my bed, careful to position myself so I’m facing Ryen and Katniss won’t see the mess we’ve made. He stirs a little when I flip on the lamp, but he doesn’t wake so I bring up Skype and smile as it rings.

“Hey!” I say brightly as Katniss answers. “How’d it go?”

“Not bad… I finished thirtieth.”

“Oh my gosh!” I gasp. “So you’ll be in pursuit again tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

“How exciting! Tell me all about it.” I’m so focused on Katniss and talking to her, noticing the brightness in her eyes, the softness of her smile, and the happy flush on her cheeks that I don’t even notice anything amiss until Katniss’ face pales and scrunches up in horror.

“Prim!” she squeals and covers her eyes. Surprisingly, she gets her voice calm for the next thing she says. “There is...um...a naked man in your room.”

“What?” I glance to the side she motioned towards and see Ryen stretching his arms over his head in the doorway, completely nude. He’s not visible to her right now, but he would have had to walk right behind me to get there.

“Oh! Put some clothes on,” I tell Ryen as he twists to look at me, eyes still a little bleary from sleep.

“Why?” he asks and his lips break into an arrogant grin as he strikes a pose to show off his physique. I’m torn between laughing at him and the questions I can practically hear hurtling through Katniss’s brain.

“Because I’m on Skype with my sister.”

“I don’t care if she sees me.” I roll my eyes at his nonchalance about the whole thing, especially after what he said about her shooting at targets the size of his nuts.

“Okay but you’re an exhibitionist and she’s a prude so do you see how this is a problem?”

“I am not a prude,” Katniss argues, dropping her hands to scowl at me. “Wait is that Ryen?!”

“Um--” Damnit. So much for that secret. Time for damage control.

“Primrose Everdeen! Did I just see Ryen’s naked ass? What is he doing there?”

“What am I doing here? Man if you’re asking that, I need to give The Talk to The Runt,” Ryen interjects, making me wonder if maybe he wanted her to find out about us after all. Little shit. He’s going to pay for that.

“You’re not helping, and if the sex noises I’ve heard from them are any indication, The Runt might be able to teach you a thing or two,” I say with an exaggerated sigh and keep my celebratory dance internal at the way his eyes widen.

“When? When did you hear us?” Katniss asks. “When did you two even hook up? You said it was just flirting!”

“When is not important. And yes, Katniss. You just saw Ryen’s naked ass.” And then I think of something to really get Ryen’s ire up and maybe I kinda like getting under my sister’s calm exterior too. Just a little. Double win for Prim. “So tell me something. Is that magnificent ass a family trait?”

“Hey! I’m not sure I want you asking her about my brother’s ass!” Ryen protests and I make a face at him.

“That’s because Peeta’s is  _ way  _ better,” Katniss mutters and I freeze, staring at her, astonished as I realize what just happened. I laugh once and then can't contain it, folding over myself with glee as Ryen tries to argue.

“Careful there, Katniss. Next time, I’ll show you the front. Then you won’t have anything to gloat over.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Katniss deadpans and I lose it, grabbing at my sheets to keep from falling off my bed.

Ryen tries to argue with her some more, but I know I need to get ahold of this before he makes good on his threats and really freaks her out. She’s never shared these kinds of things about her private life before, so I know she must be happy and satisfied. I don’t want Ryen accidentally scaring her back into her shell.

I pick up his discarded underwear and throw it at him. “Go start those pancakes you promised me or I’ll let her take a shot at both!” Thankfully, he goes, although he’s grumbling.

“I am done with this conversation now. I’ll call you when you’re not occupied,” Katniss says.

“Wait! Wait!” I shout around my laughs. I’m not ready to stop talking to her yet. We’ve had so few conversations with this much fun in the past few years, I want to drag it out. “Oh my gosh, I think you just smashed half his ego with one sentence. I love you for that! But don’t go yet.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

I scoff and shake my head, trying to sober for her sake. “No intrusion. You’re my sister and I wanna talk to you while I can. Besides, this is casual.”

“Casual?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell me you think I’m dumb enough to believe anything with that one is serious.” I wave towards our kitchen and Katniss sighs.

“No, I guess not. Wait, he’s not naked in our kitchen, is he?”

“No, he put some shorts on. And you’re worrying,” I sing-song.

“No I’m not.”

“That’s the worry face, Katniss.”

I watch her try to control her expression. It means so much to me that she’s trying not to worry as much, to allow me to grow and be my own adult without her hovering. To trust me with my own heart. I know it takes a lot for her to do that given what her own heart has been through.

“Can you blame me? He changes girlfriends as often as he changes sporting events! Next he’ll be trying grass skiing!”

“Which I am fully aware of and also why I’m just having some fun here. And pancakes. I’ve got way too much going on with school and work to attempt any kind of real relationship right now.” I actually mean it. As much fun as things have been with Ryen, I know that’s all it is. Some very hot fun.

“Pancakes are a good perk,” Katniss says and I smile. Food is a good way to Katniss’ good opinion. “But I thought he wasn’t your type?”

“At the moment, my type is someone who knows how to use what nature blessed him with. The front is a pretty good perk, too.”

“Oh my god,” Katniss mumbles, her ears flushing. But she’s laughing, too. An honest to goodness real laugh. So I take a gamble. And maybe I want some more confirmation that she’s as satisfied as she sounds.

“Which leads me to another family similarity. Don’t freak out, but I have got to ask, for possible future ammunition against his ego…”

I peek over the top of my laptop to assure myself that Ryen is busy and we’re alone. I can feel my cheeks heating as I bite my lip and, assured of our privacy for the moment, lift my hands and gauge the distance to make sure I’ve got it right. I don’t even know if Katniss will figure out what I’m doing. 

She gapes at me for a moment but then lifts her hands in a similar gesture. About the same length, maybe a touch longer. The fact that she hasn’t screeched at me but is playing along pushes me forward to flip one hand around and show her a circle to indicate girth. And okay, maybe I’m a little curious if the differences in their builds translates to their groins. While Ryen’s taller than Peeta, he’s also lean where the other two are stocky.

Katniss’ lips curve up and I only have a second to register this completely unfamiliar expression on her face before she speaks.

“Runt is a terribly inaccurate epithet for Peeta,” she says as she lifts her hand in a circle. A very fat circle.

“You lucky bitch!” I yell just as Ryen steps into the doorway and asks me where we keep the syrup. I’ve been caught! More damage control! “Okay, love you, Katniss!”

“What are you girls talking about now?”

“Nothing! Love you too, Duck! Talk to you soon!” Katniss shouts back, laughing and blushing, and I hope happy as I hang up to deal with the not entirely naked man watching me closely.

“Do I want to know?”

“Nope,” I tell him and he moves in on me as I shut my laptop and set it aside. He pulls me towards him, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he runs a hand up my leg and traces a finger over me through my fleece pants.

“Sure I can’t get it out of you?”

“You’ll have better luck with the pancakes,” I say as my hips lift into his touch. “Don’t burn them.”

Ryen curses and hurries back to the kitchen, leaving me to wonder why he’s suddenly okay with Katniss knowing that we’re basically fuck buddies. This was supposed to be uncomplicated. I’m not going to figure out what he’s playing at by staying in here, though.

I follow him out to the kitchen and find the syrup for him. Then I sit at the table to watch him flip pancakes and lick bits of batter off his fingers as he works, all with that ass perfectly on display in nothing but his underwear.

“Are you gonna make me do all the work?” he asks with a glance over his shoulder at me.

“Yes, I am,” I say and he smiles at me.

“You’re worth every bit of it.”

“Stop the chit chat and cook faster. I’m hungry,” I say to distract myself from the warmth that seems to start in my chest and spreads down to my toes. He’s probably said things like this to dozens of girls, all across the world. If he wants more from me, he’s gonna have to give more first.

  
  



	2. Croissants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so thrilled that so many of you have embraced this couple and cannot wait for you all to read their whole story. For now, we go back to the beginning. By popular request (*cough cough* buttercupbadass and stjohn27), I present Rosie and Ryen at Skadi. This takes place within the time frame of Chapter 17: A Summer Affair, for "Outside Chance." I realize this is a jump in time, but unfortunately, I wrote these as outtakes and found inspiration for the first chapter before I found it for this one. So! For those who want to read these in chronological order, I'll start posting that in the notes.
> 
> Chronological Order -  
> Chapter 2: Croissants  
> Chapter 3: Waffles  
> Chapter 4: Muffins  
> Chapter 1: Pancakes  
> Chapter 5: Zucchini Bread

It’s late and dark. The window only useful to see my reflection. I’m restless and toss in bed. There’s a soft knock and I lift my head, ears perked to catch any words. I’m not able to, but I do hear a soft, masculine chuckle and then Katniss shushing him, as if I am clueless about what they’re doing. As if it wasn’t obvious when I knocked on her door this morning to ask about breakfast and heard frantic scrambling before Katniss opened the door, fully dressed but breathless and flushed.

There’s the click of Katniss’ bedroom door closing. Our second night here and she’s spent both of them with Peeta in her bed. Ugh. I’m jealous.

I flip over again and close my eyes. Sleep continues to elude me and while I don’t hear any more sounds from them, it’s only a matter of time before one of them let’s loose with a throaty moan or more.

And I am not in the mood to listen to someone else get laid. One of the few bad things about Katniss being home over the summer is that she is overprotective. And by that, I mean that I have to get creative. I haven’t had decent dick in months. I haven’t had any sex at all since April!

Punching my pillow aside, I slide out of bed, stuff my feet into the flats I wore to dinner, and grab a sweater to cover my tank top I’m sleeping in. Room key and phone and I am out the door. Just in time, too. As I’m unbolting the main door, there’s a low moan from her room.

They won’t even know that I’m gone.

I wander down towards the lobby and pause in front of the large schedule board, smiling at the drawings of my sister and the three Mellark boys. The cafe is unfortunately closed and I lean on the counter, looking longingly at the empty warming shelves and dreaming of flaky pastries.

“What brings you to the lobby this late at night?”

I smile at his voice, keeping my gaze straight ahead as Ryen drops his arms next to mine and copies my stance.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say and turn to look at him. “You?”

“Same. I’ve got a younger brother who isn’t very subtle about sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

“Funny. I’ve got an older sister who isn’t very subtle about sneaking boys in during the middle of the night.”

“What will we do with them?” He asks and shakes his head in mock disappointment.

I’m not sure what else to say. He’s been flirting at dinner, but I’m not sure how much of that is inspired by the soft music and romantic glow of the restaurant. The ease and comfort of having family around us. And how much of it just that that’s who Ryen is with every woman he comes across. Although, I’ve never once seen him flirt with Katniss.

“Actually, I was a little hungry and hoping the cafe was still open.”

“There’s always Rooba’s.” He motions towards the tiny store and I shake my head. Shrink wrapped sandwiches and packaged crackers are not what I had in mind. “A lady of more refined tastes. Alright, follow me.”

“Where are we going?” I ask eagerly, following him and smiling when he leans back against a door labeled EMPLOYEES ONLY with a grin.

“Somewhere I can personally see to the needs of our guest.”

“Such a good host,” I tease as we pass through the door and fall into step side by side.

“Nah, I’ve just got a hankering for cinnamon rolls.”

“Oh yes! I’ve missed the cinnamon rolls.” They are the best thing on the planet. So delicious.

He smiles and leads me into the kitchens, flipping on a bank of lights and heading straight for one of the cool rooms.

“Aha! Here we go,” he says and returns with a massive tray of uncooked cinnamon rolls, waiting for the bakers to arrive in a few hours and turn them into tasty, gooey treats. He examines them for a moment and I laugh. “On second thought…”

“There’s no way we’ll be able to eat all of those!”

“Maybe next time,” he says and slides the tray back in place. “Hold on a second. It’s been awhile since I’ve had to work with foods in mass. There’s got to be something in small portions back here.”

I stifle a laugh. He sounds perturbed. I got the impression at dinner the past two nights that he hasn’t really been home much in the past ten years.

“Jackpot! How about croissants with strawberry and cream cheese?”

“Sounds yummy,” I say and he emerges with a stack of plastic tubs and a glass jar.

“Alright, we’re in business.” He sets everything on one of the marbled counters and fires up one one of the ovens. I jump up onto the counter next to the pile of ingredients as he rolls up his sleeves and searches the cabinets for a flat metal sheet. I watch him work for a moment, dusting the counter with flour, carefully laying out two square sheets of dough and slicing them into four triangles. But then curiosity gets the better of me.

“So is this your usual M.O.? Making cinnamon rolls for ladies?”

“Ah,” he glances up at me and seems to be debating something. I decide to make it easy on him.

“Oh come on, Ryen. You’re not gonna treat me like I’m still a kid too, are you? I know you’re a notorious player.”

“Well,” he draws the word out and I prod further.

“How many women have you made cinnamon rolls for?”

He shrugs and relaxes. “None. I can’t make cinnamon rolls for any of them.”

“Why not?”

“Because then they’d fall in love with me and it’d all be over.” I can’t stop the laugh that bursts free as he smiles at me and spreads the cream cheese over the dough.

“Would that be so bad? Having someone fall in love with you?”

“It’d ruin my reputation,” he says in mock horror and I swipe a bit of the strawberries from the jar and smile at him before devouring them. “It’s easier if it’s casual. I’m never in one spot long enough to put down roots.”

That sounds kind of lonely. For a second, I think his eyes dim a little, so I find a new way to tease him.

“So then what do you cook for them the morning after? Or do you not stick around that long?”

“Hey now. I pride myself on making sure my partners are completely satisfied, and that includes breakfast. Of some kind,” he says, giving me a look that stirs butterflies to life in my belly.  “I confess to being lazy sometimes and getting something from a cafe or store, but if I really get along with her, I’ll make my special waffles the morning after.”

“What makes them so special?”

“That is a secret,” he says and winks at me.

Oh boy. I always knew he was fucking hot and I wasn’t lying when I told Katniss that I had a crush on him as a kid, but yikes. It’s always the subtle little details that make seduction an art. Like that look and that wink. The way he flirts. I have a feeling he’s earned his reputation for a reason.

This could be fun.

I lean over to watch him roll the croissants and slide them onto the baking sheet.

“Enough about me,” he says as the metal sheet clanks on the oven rack and he shuts the door, sets the timer. “What about you?”

“I’m an open book. What do you want to know?”

“Right now? Everything,” he says and sets his hands on either side of my knees.

I laugh nervously and start simple. School is always simple. But he listens. He listens and he asks questions like I’m actually interesting to him and not the pesky younger sister. I’m sure he must be bored, hearing about my classes and my job and my friends in such depth, but he never once seems to waver in his interest.

We’ve circled back around to Katniss and what it’s like living with my older sister when the timer goes off and Ryen retrieves the croissants. I take a deep breath and center myself. Bite my lip because I was about to spill a few things Katniss might not appreciate me telling him. Not during a _Hey! Let’s catch up while we have a midnight snack!_ talk. I tell him about Buttercup instead and show him pictures while we wait for the croissants to cool.

“Wow. Feisty little guy,” Ryen says with a grin and asks me to tell him the story of how we found him and nursed him back to health. “That’s incredible. I like him already.”

Is it strange that his response to my cat makes me want to jump him in the kitchen? Screw it. I’m getting laid this week. I’ll work out the details in a minute.

He hands me a croissant and we bite into them. I close my eyes in bliss.

“Good?” I nod my head and moan in response. I’ve devoured one and am starting on my second when I decide to test the waters.

“You know, you did make cinnamon rolls for me once.”

“Did I?” I nod, unable to answer with pastry in my mouth. “When?”

“I was nine, maybe ten,” I say when I’ve swallowed my food. “I tried tagging along on a hike with Katniss, without telling her, but I couldn’t get my boots on in time. By the time I got out of the house, she and Peeta were long gone. I climbed a tree to look for them and fell, skinned my knee pretty bad. Mom cleaned it up and put a bandage on me but then she was needed for something. You were around the area doing who knows what --” Hanging out with friends, and he sent them off towards the pool when he saw me, saying he’d catch up with them “-- and you told me you knew just the thing to make me feel better. So you brought me back here and snuck a few rolls off the tray for us to bake and eat.”

“Huh,” he says and tilts his head. “You know...I think I remember that now.”

He points to my left knee and smiles. “Hello Kitty band aid. Right there.”

He does remember.

“You were a lot shorter then,” he says with a smile. Right. I fight back my disappointment and shrug.

“You were a lot skinnier.” It’s so the wrong thing to say. He’s all lean muscle now instead of the bean pole he was as a teenager, and his grin tells me that he knows it.

“Well. Thank you for the croissants,” I change the subject to avoid further embarrassment.

“My pleasure,” Ryen says and I have to fight to keep from visibly shivering at his warm tone. I hop down off the counter then and we clean up our mess. We talk some more as he walks me back to my room and I pause outside the door. It’s been so nice catching up with him and I don’t want it to be over just yet.

As I look up at him, his eyes drop to my mouth. He leans towards me and my breath catches, pulse kicking into high gear. My eyes flutter closed and then I feel his lips. On my forehead. Right between my eyebrows.

“Well...sleep well, Primrose.”

I can feel my smile slipping and turn quickly to hide it, not realizing until this moment that I liked it when he called me ‘Rose’ at dinner yesterday. “You too, Ryen.”

Then I burrow in my bed and plot. It can’t be _that_ hard to get Ryen Mellark in bed, can it?

I examine my desires and try to see if maybe I was too obvious. Too desperate. But no, he looked at my lips. He wanted to kiss me. I’m almost sure of it. But he aborted at the last second for some reason. Probably because of my sister and her misguided attempts to protect me. Which means I now have to go against what I told Katniss in Colorado. She needs to ditch me.

* * *

 

For the next few days, I only have a little bit of luck with my plan. Katniss is an attentive sibling and true to her word, we spend quite a bit of time together. It’s wonderful. Truly. I haven’t gotten to spend this kind of time with her in ages. She indulges me and lets me dress her up. We visit all our old haunts and discover some new ones. I’ve missed this side of Katniss. My sister, not my stand in parent. This alone makes the trip worthwhile.

While Ryen sometimes joins us during the day and he’s always at dinner, sitting right next to me and flirting consistently, it’s hard to gauge if I’m making any real progress on that front. He started flirting that first night, after all.

Our visit is almost halfway over and I contemplate ways to kick it up a notch without coming across as a hussy and tipping Katniss off. Because the daggers I catch her sometimes throwing Ryen’s way concern me. The last thing I want to do is let my summer fling come between her and Peeta. They’ve just gotten back together and I do not want to be the rift that splits them apart again. No sex is worth that.

Last night I tried to watch a show on TV only to be driven back into my bedroom by the poorly muffled sounds that can only mean my sister either missed her calling as a porn star or she’s having fantastic sex.

So big surprise, I’m still frustrated and jealous. Damnit.

I find myself downstairs in the lobby, contemplating breakfast at the restaurant while Katniss is at the pool with Peeta. Of course, that I understand. They still have to keep up their exercise regimen and training to some degree. Still, I’m not up for a lonely meal this morning.

“Hey, Rose,” he whispers and I jump. He laughs a little and steadies me as I smack his arm lightly.

“You frightened me!” He’s ridiculously hot in jeans and a loose button down with the sleeves rolled up, his hair effortless and flip flops on his feet. I’m glad I went with the sundress and oversized cardigan this morning instead of yoga pants and a baggy tee.

“Sorry. Come on,” he cocks his head towards the doors and I follow his gaze.

“Where?”

“Breakfast. Not here,” he says and holds his hand out to me. I slip my hand in his and a thrill goes through me. He drives us into town and parks outside a run down timber restaurant advertising the best breakfast in town. I doubt that, but follow him in. He waves to a scruffy looking teen and the boy waves back.

“Just pick any open table. Be right with ya’ll,” he tells us and then goes back to wiping down the table he was bussing.

“This is my favorite place to get away from the lodge,” Ryen says as he motions towards a table next to the window.

The place is a total downgrade from the class and posh of Skadi. Linoleum floors and tables. Plastic chairs with metal legs that screech when he pulls them out. I skeptically eye the sticky menu that he hands me. Ryen smiles and leans across the table towards me.

“Trust me,” he says. “It tastes a whole lot better than it looks.”

“Hmmm. I’ll be the judge of that. I like my food to be...aesthetically pleasing.”

“Then you want the Sunrise Platter,” he says and points to something on the menu. I look over it and lift one eyebrow.

“That’s a lot of food.”

“Something tells me you can handle it,” he says and I blink at the expression in his eyes. Fuck. Kiss these panties goodbye.

“Alright, what can I do for ya?” The woman who steps up next to our table is wizened. Gray hair, crooked teeth, wrinkles and soft rolls. She seems exasperated and out of sorts and it’s only seven in the morning.

“How’s the coffee this morning, Karen?” Ryen asks and she blinks, narrows her eyes.

“Bitter and probably stale.”

“Can we get two cups and some cream with that?”

“I suppose,” she says and he smiles at her like she’s giving him the world.

“Thank you, Karen. It’s just the thing we need for a morning pick-me-up. And if it’s okay, I think we’re ready to order.” I glance between the two of them and watch her almost soften at his charming tone and polite demeanor.

“Sure.”

Ryen motions towards me and I order the Sunrise Platter. He adds a plate of biscuits and fried apples, but otherwise orders the same thing as me. Karen seems appeased that we’re at least not just getting the coffee and actually has some pep in her step as she shuffles away.

We talk skiing and crazy family while we wait for our food. Karen keeps the coffee flowing and at one point smiles fondly at Ryen. What a charmer he is. It’s actually kind of sexy to watch him put everyone around him at ease.

A mountain of food arrives and we dig in. There’s not much room for conversation as we stuff our faces, but as the plates are cleared and we slow down on the eating, we pick it back up where we left off before the food arrived.

“And you didn’t tell her?” he asks incredulous when I tell him about the transfer.

“Does Graham know about everything you do?”

“Not even close,” he says with a laugh. “He’s too much of a control freak.”

I lift one shoulder in a shrug.

“So then you understand,” I say and Ryen smiles. His hand finds my knee under the table and I shift. It must send the wrong signal because his hand starts to slide right back off. I grab his arm on the table and he freezes. I shake my head. He works his mouth and then his hold on my knee is firm again. Sure. I relax and pluck at his sleeve. His fingers trace over my skin and I force my spine to remain rigid instead of melting into a puddle.

It’s almost a shame we’ve spent so much time here, although I’ve enjoyed every second of it. By the time we get back to Skadi, our siblings will probably be done with their workout and be wondering where we went. Ryen seems to be thinking the same thing.

“We should head back,” he murmurs, voice low and seductive. Of course, almost everything he does is seductive.

“Probably,” I agree. Ryen pays our check and drives us back towards the lodge.

We haven’t even made it out of town when I spot a lumpy form twitching on the side of the road. My hand shoots out and grabs his arm. “Ryen, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” He slams on the brakes and I jump out of the car and run. I’m on my knees next to the dog when I hear Ryen’s door shut behind me.

“Do you have a blanket in your car? A towel? He needs a vet,” I say and soothe over the matted fur. All I get is a weak whine. He’s badly injured, but he does have a collar. His leg looks broken and I grab a few sticks, ask Ryen to tear strips off the blanket.

Once I’ve got a rudimentary splint on the pup’s leg, Ryen kneels next to me and helps me get him onto the blanket. Together, we move him to Ryen’s back seat. He swings the car around and drives us back to a vet while I kneel on my seat and lean into the back to coo softly to the dog. He’s some kind of black labrador mix, barely more than a puppy based on his oversized paws. As soon as Ryen parks, we’re in motion. He gently lifts the poor baby in his arms and carries him while I charge ahead and speak to the receptionist.

“Well we’re not busy this morning, so let’s get him in room two,” she tells me and Ryen complies.

“Hey big guy, hang in there. These nice people are gonna fix you up,” Ryen whispers as he lays the pup on the exam table. A vet walks in and we’re ushered out to the waiting room. I don’t like leaving him, but he’s technically not ours. Twenty minutes later, the vet walks out and smiles at us.

“Good news. He’s dehydrated, got a busted leg and a few cracked ribs, but he’s gonna make it just fine. We’ve contacted the number on his tags so hopefully we can get him home.” I collapse with relief in the chair and Ryen thanks the vet, offers to pay the bills, but the vet assures him that won’t be necessary since it appears this dog has an owner.

“Rosie?” Ryen says and kneels in front of me. I lift my head and smile weakly at him. “You ready?”

“I think so,” I say. We really should be heading back. We’ve done all we can at this point. I stand and we walk out together.

When we reach the car, I’m expecting him to open the door for me, but instead he pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me. I sink into the warmth and rest my cheek on his shirt. There’s no real substitute for a real hug and his hands soothing over my back help banish the last bits of worry and fear.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“For what?”

“For helping. Not laughing at me or blowing me off.”

“Why would I do that?” he asks.

“Some people do,” I say with a shrug. It’s awkward with his arms still tight around me. I lift my head a little and find his bent towards me. His mouth right above my nose. I want to see his eyes and shift to do so. His lips brush mine in the process. Just a soft caress.

But it sparks inside me and he shifts so his hand is in my hair, cupping the back of my head as our mouths slide together and apart, back together in an urgent kiss. My fingers curl into his shirt and I hold on as the world becomes weightless. I’m not sure how long we stand there kissing, but my knees are jelly and I never want him to stop.

I release a soft moan against his lips and swipe my tongue on his upper lip, just a little, not even caring if I’m begging. Ryen lifts his head and stares down at me. Clears his throat. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, you should,” I tell him, fighting back a scream of frustration. He closes his eyes.

“Rosie…”

“Yes?”

Now for the awkward talk, I think. The easy let down.

“Meet me by the cafe again tonight?” He traces his thumb over my lip and I keep a tight rein on my excitement.

“Are you cooking for me again?”

“You’ll have to meet me to find out.”

* * *

 

I wait a few minutes after hearing Peeta and Katniss head to her bedroom. When I slip out, there’s silence. I come across very few people in the lobby. Ryen’s not at the cafe yet, but I hear someone tapping out a tune on the grand piano tucked in one corner. Curious, I head that way and halt when I see Ryen with his head bent over the keys. I’d forgotten that he plays. I used to as well. A long time ago. Gramps actually hired a music teacher for me, and Ryen used to crash my lessons. I’m surprised by how much he seems to remember.

He looks up and smiles as I slide onto the bench next to him, his hands going still. “Hey.”

“Hey. The only one I think I can remember is _Mary Had a Little Lamb_ ,” I tell him. Ryen grins and plunks out the tune. Choppy and awful like a beginner. I laugh and he stands.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?”

“Surprise me,” I say as he pulls me up next to him.

“Goat cheese and apple tarts it is.”

“So decadent,” I say and he grins. There goes another pair of panties.

He works on the tarts and our words fly back and forth. He tells me about some of his travels. I tell him a little about Michigan and New Mexico. He asks all kinds of questions about Sae and Haymitch and our ties to our tribe. Our father’s people. Not many people ask me about that, since I don’t really look like I belong. Katniss usually gets both the questions and the backlash for our ancestry. But Ryen knew our father. Knows I share that ancestry in blood if not looks.

When the tarts are done, we eat them in blissful silence. The dishes are washed and in the rack to dry, but I really don’t want to go back to the room just yet. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and takes a deep breath. My breathing stops. His head bends towards mine and then he pauses. His lips part and his eyes search my face. If he’s confused, then I guess I better make it clear. I grab hold of his neck and smash my mouth to his.

Ryen groans and his hands grab hold of my shoulders. For one second, I think he’s going to shove me away and then his arms are around me and we’re pressed together, swaying as we kiss. He grabs my ass and hauls me closer. I moan into his mouth and lift one leg to wrap around him.

“Is this okay?” he whispers as his hand kneads my ass.

“Fucking yes,” I say and he’s laughing as I plant my mouth on his again. And his tongue. Oh my god his tongue. Might as well be a whisk and my brain some egg yolks, prepped for scrambling and holy shit am I wet. He tears his mouth away and I whimper, stop grinding myself on him. Fuck, I need to stop being so desperate

“Not here,” he says and looks around at all the cold, hard surfaces of the kitchen.

“Then where?” I ask and latch my mouth to his neck. His fingers dig into my skin and he groans.

“I have an idea.” Ryen leads me to the door and peers out into the hallway while I nibble on his ears. I have to stop as he hurries down the hall, taking me with him, giggling the whole way, to another room and shuts the door, plunging us into darkness. There’s a loud crash and he curses but then he turns me. My knees hit something solid and I go down, landing on a soft leather cushion and Ryen’s body presses down into mine.

We’re both laughing, the giddy sound vibrating against my throat as I rock my hips and he echoes the movement back to me. I moan through the laughter when his hard cock presses against my clit. “Yes. Don’t stop, Ryen.”

“You are impossible to resist, Rosie,” he murmurs as his hand slides beneath my shirt and I beg him to touch me. He kneads my breast, plucks at the nipple and makes me buck up into him harder. Let my own hands wander beneath his shirt. Fucking hell. I knew he was ripped. There are plenty of shirtless pictures of him floating around, but damn. I suddenly wish for light so I could see for real. “I’ve been trying to resist. So hard.”

“Why would you do a stupid thing like that?” I ask and bite his ear.

“Because,” he says and his words get garbled as our mouths find each other again. Fuck, he’s a good kisser. Toe tingling, mind numbingly good. I whine when he breaks the kiss and his lips trail over my cheeks then down my neck. But that feels really good too. “I value my life.”

I laugh at that and slide my hands into his jeans to grab his ass and pull him closer.

“But I’m starting to value it less by the second. Fuck me, even your laugh is sexy.”

“I promise not to tell,” I say and whimper as his hand caresses down my sides, fingers playing with the hem of my pants.

“You’re not making this easy,” he groans.

“I can make it very, very easy,” I say and rock my hips harder. He gets the point and we’re full on grinding, hands wandering and lips sampling in the dark. Our words breathless and separated by long seconds of frantic humping.

“How?”

“You go back to your life after. I go back to mine.”

“You’re sure? We can make this casual?”

“Completely,” I assure him and wriggle to get a better angle. “Fuck, I’m close Ryen. Suck my tits.”

“Holy shit. Yes.”

With his mouth busy, I can focus on the feel of him hard against me, of the delicious suction and the warmth of his touch. I squeak and my nails rake down his back. My body seizes, caught in euphoric eddies.

“Ah fuck, Rosie. I’m gonna come.” His hips jerk a few times and he groans against my chest.

We’re caught in a humid cloud of darkness, panting in the night. Neither of us actually removed any clothing. I can feel his damp forehead pressed to my neck. I trace my fingers through the perspiration forming beneath his shirt. I wish I could see him. Wish I had more light than the solitary strip peeking in beneath the door to the hallway. But maybe darkness is best for the things we say.

“So you fuck who you want and I fuck who I want after this week?”

“No strings. No questions. No expectations.”

He lifts his head and kisses me. His tongue deep and thorough. My folds throb back to life, my body screaming for more. Our lips separate with a soft smack.

“We won’t be able to tell our families,” Ryen whispers and I nod.

“I know. They won’t understand.”

“That’s what you want? You’re okay with that?”

“I am.”

“God, how are you even real?” he asks and I laugh again.

“That’s what we both want, Ryen.” We stagger to our feet and Ryen finds the light switch. I blink into the glare and smile at his skewed clothing as he tugs his shirt down to cover the wet spot on the front of his jeans.

“We won’t be able to use the suite either,” I remind him as I put my shirt to rights. “Is there a room open somewhere else?”

“Pretty sure Peeta said the place is booked for the weekend. I’ll think of something, though.”

“Don’t disappoint me,” I say as I open the door and smile back at him. “You wouldn’t want to upset one of your guests.”

* * *

 

**_Does Katniss enjoy the spa?_ **

It’s such a random question that I answer without too much thought.

_She hates it._

**_Perfect. Tell her you have an appointment. Say whatever you need to get rid of her. Head towards the spa and I’ll find you. Wear a bathing suit._ **

_See you soon ;-)_

* * *

 

Ryen and I remain in the shadows, our bodies pressed together and my heart pounding wildly. He’s so close. I breathe in the scent of him, warm and spicy. Thrilling. We watch as our siblings head towards the parking area. They’re holding hands and are nauseatingly cute together. As soon as they’re through the doors, Ryen takes my hand in his and leads me in the opposite direction.

* * *

 

The lake water is still chilled when I dip my toes in it and I laugh, jumping aside as Ryen sends a plume of it in my direction.

“No thanks,” I tell him. “I think I’ll just get some sunshine.”

“Suit yourself,” he says as I spread out the blanket he brought. I sit on it and watch him swim for a moment. He doesn’t remain in the water long, though, and his exit from the lake gives my eyes plenty to feast on. The lake and his shorts cling to the contours of his body the way I’d like to. Lucky water. Decent lighting is a thing of beauty, I think as he shakes himself partially dry and I contemplate licking the remaining droplets from his skin.

“You know,” I say as he drops onto the blanket beside me. “Katniss will expect me to be completely relaxed when I make it back to the room. Since I’m supposed to be at the spa.”

“Sunshine and swimming not good enough?” I bite my lip and shake my head. “How do you usually relax?”

“That depends. There’s all sorts of ways to work up a good, relaxing glow.”

“Say you’ve had a stressful day of classes…”

“Well,” I say and hide my frustration. I thought we were on the same page here. “Pajamas, something sweet to eat, and a movie.”

“What kind of movie?”

“Cheesy romance,” I admit and feel my cheeks heating as he smiles at me. “But I also have a soft spot for tragic romances.”

“Romeo and Juliet?”

“To name one.”

“Hmmm, I always had a soft spot for Jack and Rose.”

I gasp at his admission and he laughs. “How could you? There was so much room on that door!”

“Yeah, but they made each other feel alive,” he says. He plucks at some of the grass beside us and I nudge him with my shoulder.

“Wanna know another way I like to relax?”

“Definitely.”

“A good, bone deep massage.” His eyes dip down to peruse my body and I am so glad I packed my skimpy blue bikini for this trip. “Think you could help with that?”

“I’d hate for you to completely miss out on your spa appointment.”

A thrill runs through me as I roll onto my stomach and stretch out, reach behind me to untie the top of my bikini. “Then get to work.”

“Are you going to critique my technique? Since you’ve probably got a better idea of how to do this right?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

He chuckles but shifts to place one knee on either side of my hips. Cool drops of lake water drip from his trunks onto my legs as he rubs his hands together to warm them. His skin is still somewhat chilled when he places his hands on me, but there’s an underlying warmth that quickly grows as he works my muscles loose.

I take a deep breath and relax beneath his touch, enjoying the feel of it and the decadent contrast of cool and heat. I can’t contain my moans when he hits a particularly tight spot and focuses there. My pulse slows and I’m lost in bliss when he leans over me, his breath tickling my ear as he whispers to me.

“Better?”

“Not quite,” I say and shift to roll over, he gives me the space to do so. I leave the top behind, not bothering to cover myself as I settle on my back and his mouth opens in a shuddering breath, his eyes skimming over me. While he’s not looking at my face, I risk a glance and bite my lip when I can see the plain outline of his erect cock through his damp shorts.

When he’s done looking me over, his pupils are fat and his eyes burn with desire. He wants me. I know he does. So I crook a finger at him and smile.

“Come here.”

Ryen bends towards me, planting his hands on either side of my head, his nose brushes mine and his hair falls over my forehead. We stare at each other for a moment and I bring my hands up to rest on his forearms. Then he lowers his head the rest of the way to kiss me. When he lifts his head, I capture his lower lip in my teeth and hold on until I can’t.

“Am I still irresistible?” I whisper and he smiles at me, he moves one hand to my shoulder then down over my body.

“Unbelievably,” he murmurs.

Then his lips are on me again. On my neck, my shoulders, my breasts. His hand trails lazily in advance of his lips, down my belly. Sunshine is forgotten with the heat he stirs in me. Ryen returns his mouth to my neck, bathing me with kisses and soft words while his hand moves aside my bikini bottom. He drags his knuckles through my folds and groans.

“Fuck, you’re so soft and warm.”

I whimper as he works one finger inside me, flatten my feet on the blanket so I can lift my hips into his touch. I bite my lip to stifle my moans. Anyone could wander upon us out here, but the truth is...that adds to the thrill.

“That’s it, Rosie. Fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how you like it.”

“More,” I plead and he nibbles on my ear as he slides another finger inside me. “Yes.”

Then his fingers curl inside me and I can’t stop the sound I make. “You like that?” I nod and arch beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders. “You surprise me at every turn, Rosie. Make me want to learn all your secrets. Everything about you. Like what you taste like down here.”

“Oh,” I mewl as he fucks me harder and somehow gets a third finger in me without breaking rhythm. “Oh fuck.”

“What noises you’ll make with my cock in you.”

“Ryen, please,” I beg and grapple with the ties on his shorts before sliding one hand inside and grabbing hold of his cock. His hips buck and his head jerks back for a second. When he looks down at me again, we both go rigid with our hands on each other. I stroke him once and he pulls his fingers from me.

“Can I fuck you now?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?”

“No,” he laughs and lifts my legs, tugging my bottom up to my thighs and draping my legs on his shoulder. “I mean...are you ready for me?”

“Unbelievably,” I breathe and he smiles, jerking his head to get his hair out of his eyes. He digs through his discarded jeans and rolls on a condom while I urge him to hurry. He slides inside me and I close my eyes, relaxing as he fills me slow. Deep.

“Fuuuuck. Rosie,” he groans.

“Make it hard, Ryen,” I say and he lifts his hips to slam down into me. I squeeze my eyes shut and rock my hips up to meet him. And fuck, it feels so good. So so good I’m afraid to open my eyes and find out I’m dreaming. He pauses to swivel his hips and whispers about how tight and hot I feel. Kisses my legs.

“Fuck, I can’t keep this up. Feels too good. I want you to come first.”

I protest as he rips off the rest of my bathing suit and moves us so that I’m straddling him.

“Ride me hard, Rosie,” he says with a smile and a bite of his lip. “I want everything you can dish out.”

I give an experimental twirl of my hips and his legs shift. He nods and I do it again. Harder. He pulls on my hips and then I’m lost. Feet hooked over his thighs, back arched as I ride him hard and fast and my gut tightens then springs free with a flash of heat and euphoria. I cry out and try to stop but Ryens hands keep me moving faster and faster until I come again with no warning and shout loud enough to disturb some of the birds on the lake. He groans and lifts his hips off the ground. His chest heaving beneath me when I collapse on top of him.

I lie there, warm and limp and unbelievably satisfied. Smiling with relief, I kiss his neck as his hands roam over my back. My hair covers both our faces and I leave it for now, wanting to remain in this moment with him just a little longer.

“Relaxed?” he asks eventually and I shift my hair aside and lift myself enough to look down at him. “Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re breathtaking,” he whispers and I smile.

“And you’re a shameless flirt. Do I have a convincing glow?”

“Perfect,” he says and pulls me down for a kiss.

We take a quick dip and then dry off and dress before heading back to the lodge. As we get close, my phone chimes and I pull up the message from Katniss. I can’t stop the laugh.

“What is it?”

“They ran into moose traffic,” I say and Ryen smiles.

“Oh that could be fun at dinner tonight.”

Fun. I bite my lip and watch him as he drives. Yeah, I could do with some more fun in my life. And I know just where to get it.

 


	3. Waffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey now. I pride myself on making sure my partners are completely satisfied, and that includes breakfast. Of some kind,” he says, giving me a look that stirs butterflies to life in my belly. “I confess to being lazy sometimes and getting something from a cafe or store, but if I really get along with her, I’ll make my special waffles the morning after.”
> 
> “What makes them so special?”
> 
> “That is a secret,” he says and winks at me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as a refresher, these are not exactly in order. If you want to read them in the order they happen rather than the order they were written:  
> Chapter 2 - Croissants  
> Chapter 3 - Waffles  
> Chapter 4- Muffins  
> Chapter 1 - Pancakes  
> Chapter 5 - Zucchini Bread 
> 
> This chapter takes place in late August of 2017, so in conjunction with Chapter 18 of "Outside Chance." Which means that Katniss is in New Zealand with Peeta, and while the Kat's away... ;-)

I’m bored. B-O-R-E-D. Beyond belief. 

I pick up my frappuccino and nod my head. It seems like the appropriate response to whatever Brad is saying. His name is Brad, right? Ben? Barley? Oh god, my sister might be right about me. I can’t even remember his name and we’re on a date! I’m a player! When did this happen?

“But you have to examine them within the framework of the patriarchal society that produced them,” Brad-Ben-Barley says and I set my drink aside. What were we talking about? He lost me somewhere around mediocre cinematography. Oh right. He’s trashing my favorite genre of movie while trying to sound like a feminist.

Hmmmm. Maybe I should have paid more attention to Dad’s shooting lessons. I just never saw the point. I can’t stomach the thought of shooting something that’s alive and shooting at inanimate objects always seemed pointless to me. That’s my sister’s bag.

Ah my sister. I can only imagine what she’d do with this wackadoo.

Bentley! That’s his name! Ha!

My phone chimes and I resist looking at it. That’s rude, right? You shouldn’t look at your phone when your date is on a verbal roll. Even if he is duller than a tarnished spoon.

I’m being mean. That’s not me. I sit up straighter and take another sip of my frappuccino to keep my mouth busy. Why did I even agree to this date in the first place? He’s not even hot.

He stops talking for a moment to sip his coffee and the light hits his soft brown hair just so.

Oh right. He’s hot when he’s not talking.

Maybe I can duct tape his mouth shut while I bang him. I wonder if he’s into BDSM? Now  _ that  _ could make him interesting.

“Anyways, that’s why Ally is a fake feminist icon,” he says and stops to blink as I slurp the rest of my frozen drink. I’m too stunned to say anything.

This is my worst decision this week. And I’m twenty-one. I make plenty of poor decisions in any given week. At least while Katniss is gone I do. My phone chimes again and I dig through my purse for it.

“Sorry. My sister’s out of the country. I really need to answer if that’s her. You understand right?”

“Sure,” Bentley says and waves towards the register as he stands. “You want anything else?”

“No, I’m good,” I say as I find my phone. I do not want to drag this date out any longer than necessary. I am no longer letting Heather set me up on dates.

One of the texts is from Katniss, just a quick checking in text asking how classes are going and if Buttercup is okay. He had an allergic reaction to his shots last week. He’s fine now, but a puffy cranky Buttercup is not fun to deal with. I answer that one and check the other.

It’s a picture from Ryen. 

We’ve kept up a fairly steady text conversation since leaving Skadi. He actually just went back up to Wyoming to spend a few days with Gramps before he heads off to New Zealand for his own competition. Somehow, we’ve managed to keep it easy and friendly. Simple. Non-sexual. Which is a shame because I could really go for some sexting right about now. I’ll bet he’s really good at it. The fact that my spank bank is pretty much populated solely with Ryen Mellark anymore has no bearing on my ability to keep this casual. 

I tap the side of my phone as I wait for the picture to load. As soon as it pops up, I gasp. Ryen’s kneeling next to an adorable black lab mix, a huge smile on his face and the dog’s tongue lolling out.

**_Hi! My name is Waffles!_ **

My eyes flick up to check on Bentley. He’s still in line waiting for his refill. 

_ Adorable! _

**_Thank you ;-)_ **

_ I was talking about the pooch. Is he yours? _

**_He is now. Just adopted him two days ago._ **

_ Awwww! I wanna pet him! When can I meet him? _

**_You already have_ **

I glance up and shove my phone hastily back in my purse as Bentley resumes his seat. He launches into a new topic, but I’m so not interested. I’m wondering what Ryen meant when he said that I’ve already met his dog. Could he actually mean…? My phone goes off again twice more. A third chime and Bentley glances at my purse. 

“Should you--”

“Probably,” I say and fetch it to save me from the depths of boredom. I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face as I read Ryen’s texts.

**_Remember the dog we took to the vet?_ **

**_I went back there to ask if they’d been able to contact his owners. The owners never got back to them_ **

**_Poor puppy’s been sitting in the shelter for the past month and a half_ **

I melt into my seat as one more text comes through.

**_I couldn’t leave him there. So I adopted him._ **

“Is everything alright?”

“What?” I ask and look up at Bentley. Then I shake my head to clear it of cobwebs. “I’m sorry. I have to cut this short. We can talk about how you’re all wrong about  _ What’s Your Number _ another time.”

I grab my purse and hurry towards the door, pausing to wave at him from the threshold. “Thanks for the coffee, Brad.”

As soon as I’m clear, I call Ryen.

“So why’d you name him Waffles?” I’ll admit I’m a little disappointed with the name, but I guess Croissants or Goat Cheese Tarts isn’t a great name for a big ol Labrador.

“Because he gorged himself on the waffle bar at Skadi.” I laugh and decide the name is acceptable. Not that I have any say in it. “You wanna see him again?”

“Of course I do. But you’re—“

“Little over an hour away from you. I'm in Denver.”

I have to stop talking to check the street before I cross. And I’m a little distracted mentally driving the route from Skadi to here. It’s nine hours and takes him nowhere near his home in Salt Lake. I don’t get a chance to think about it too much though. 

“Unless you’re busy.”

“No! I’m walking downtown right now. I want to see him.”

“Okay. What’s your address?”

I send it to him and head home, engage in some furious cleaning and then grab a quick shower. Then the eternal debate. Comfortable cotton panties or something sexy and lacy. He is just stopping by so I can play with his dog and nothing was mentioned about sex. This is just a friendly visit.

Buuuuuut… I really need a good fuck after that awful date. And Ryen did just drive nine hours. Guy ought to get something for his efforts, right?

I grab the lace and make one last trip through my apartment once I’m dressed to make sure it’s presentable. I close the door to Katniss’ room just as he calls me.

“Hey, we’re in the parking lot. How do you want to handle this?” I think of at least a dozen ways he could make me come and can’t decide which one I want. “I don’t want Waffles to upset Buttercup.”

Oh. Oh right. I want him to handle this by taking me up against the front door like a beast. But since that’s not what he’s asking about, I refocus.

“If you’ve got a leash for him, keep him on that for a few minutes until they get acquainted. I’ll hold onto Buttercup.”

“Be right up.”

I’ve got Buttercup curled up in my arms when I open the door and Waffles greets me with a playful bark. Buttercup recoils and I soothe him before kneeling. I pet Waffles while he sniffs at my cat and Buttercup gives me a plaintive look, like he can’t believe I am betraying him like this. 

“Oh sweetie,” I coo. “You’re still my main man. This fella’s just visiting.”

When Buttercup finally relaxes a bit, I let Ryen and Waffles past the threshold. Waffles immediately yanks on the leash and explores. Ryen goes with him and makes sure the puppy doesn’t relieve himself or chew on anything. 

He pauses at the table behind our sofa that’s now decorated with a huge array of framed pictures. The ones I sent with Katniss in her Return to Skadi Survival Kits plus several others I dusted off after she got back to Colorado and was more open to talking about the past. Ryen smiles at the one of the four of them on the ski lift, his fingers absently petting behind Waffles’ ears.

Oh fucking hell. He just had to go and do an adorably hot thing like adopt the damn dog.

Now I sound like my sister. I definitely need a good fuck. Bad date, hot guy with cute dog in my apartment. I have a paper to write, but he just looks so tempting right now.

“So what are your thoughts on the movie  _ What’s Your Number _ ?” I ask nonchalantly.

He glances over at me and narrows his eyes. “Have you been reading my super secret diary or something? I love that movie.”

“Do you have anywhere important to be tonight?” I ask.  


Before I know it, there’s a dog bed in the corner of the living room. Buttercup cautiously approaches Waffles then retreats. To his credit, the huge dog hunkers down on his forelegs and lifts his rear, tail wagging as he lets Buttercup make the first move.

The movie plays on the TV, but I’m not watching it. Not since Ryen’s hand took up residence on my knee, fingertips barely grazing my skin. I’m soaked just thinking about what he can do with those fingers...if only he’d inch them just a little higher.

I finally have to shift my legs to invite him closer and he glances over at me. He must see the lust in my eyes. His lips twitch and his hand skims a tiny bit higher.

“Where are you headed that we were on the way?” I ask.

“I was in Denver for the afternoon. Figured it wasn’t that much further to here.”

“Uh-huh,” I say and spread my legs wider for him. “That’s a long drive to be adding on to it.”

“Waffles seemed to be enjoying the car ride,” he murmurs with a shrug. My breath hitches when his fingers just brush the edges of my panties only to retreat.

“Well I’m glad you stopped by. Not exactly the type of waffles I was expecting you to bring me, but he’s too adorable for me to be upset with you.”

Ryen’s smile shifts to something far smoother and he leans in towards me. “So you want my waffles?”

“I never say ‘no’ to a good, hearty breakfast.” His head dips and he kisses up and down my throat, fingers fluttering over my already damp panties. I rest my hands on his shoulders and enjoy his touches. 

“I still don’t know what you taste like, Rosie,” he whispers and my thighs start to close, seeking more than the gentle touches of his fingers. He twists his body so that I can’t. “Think I can find out tonight?”

“I’d hate to leave your curiosity unappeased,” I murmur.

So that’s how I wind up with my head hanging off the arm of the couch, one leg draped over the back, my panties and bra god knows where, my dress unbuttoned and shoved down to my waist, the fabric bunched between us and Ryen’s fingers plunged inside me. His mouth filled with one breast and my voice overly loud in the small apartment.

Our pets have probably run for cover but who am I to care when his mouth trails down my body and he finally flicks his tongue over my clit. I buck into his mouth and wrap my leg around his neck to hold him in place and use the one on the back of the couch to leverage myself into him. 

I buck up into his mouth and whine for more. His tongue is hot velvet inside me and he cups his hand over my breast, spreading my own wetness all over the nipple as he plucks and rolls.  I’m close. So so close and I don’t care that our nosy neighbor can probably hear me wailing.

“God you taste so good,” he moans and I protest as he shifts up my body to suck what he just spread on my breast right back off. His moans vibrate through me and I squirm when his fingers slip back inside me and pump. “So sweet.”

I nearly lose it when he smears more of me over the other breast and sucks that one clean too.

“Fuck, I’m so hard. Can you feel what you do to me, Rosie?” He presses down into me, the denim of his jeans deliciously rough on my folds, his cock rock solid. “I wanna fuck you into the couch and make you squirt so I can suck that off you too.”

“Oh my god,” I moan and tear at his shirt. How. How is he still fully dressed? That’s a horrible oversight on my part.

“Too much?”

“Too much clothing,” I say and he grins, sits back enough to remove his shirt. I reluctantly release my legs’ hold on him so he can get his jeans off too. While he’s sheathing himself in a condom, I turn over, onto my knees so I’m holding onto the arm of the couch.

His eyes widen when he sees me wiggle my ass at him. He mouths the word “Fuck” and then he flips up my skirt and palms my ass. His thumbs dip between my lips and spread me open. I wait for the intrusion, for him to fill me, but he doesn’t just yet. He fingers me and kneads my cheeks until I’m whining again.

One hand leaves me and I sigh as I feel the tip of his cock sliding through my folds. His thumb, soaked in my juices, teases my ass and I whimper his name.

He groans and then shoves into me in one hard thrust. I squeak and have to grip the arm of the couch when his hips smack into my ass. Almost immediately, he withdraws a tiny amount and then back in, slow shallow thrusts that give me time to adjust and feel the friction.

“I love the way your walls grip me,” he whispers as his hand roams over my back and ass. He keeps one hand on my lower back, thumb remaining right there, spreading my cheeks wider for him. It tickles and teases at dirty possibilities but he doesn’t push his thumb inside me. “Love how wet you get. Fuck, do you hear yourself?”

He gives me about six hard and fast thrusts, our skin slapping together and the sucking sounds of my pussy on his cock nearly drowning out my plaintive moans.

“So sexy,” he gasps as he goes back to slow thrusts, rotating his hips this time. My fingers dig into upholstery and I moan his name. “I’m gonna come too soon if you say it like that.”

He pauses with his cock buried in me and rotates his hips, bends over me, wrapping an arm around my waist, lips caressing over my shoulder.

Then he stops completely and I whine. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like my technique is being judged.”

“What?” I ask and lift my head. He’s looking over my shoulder in front of us and I follow his gaze to where Waffles lays in his bed, head resting on his paws and brow wrinkled as he watches us. I laugh and turn to kiss Ryen’s cheek. “He’s a puppy. He’s just curious.”

“It’s not too late to have you neutered,” Ryen teases and Waffles cocks his head.

“Aw, don’t torment the poor thing,” I say and shift my hips. Ryen’s fingers clench on my hip and I do it again and again until he forgets about the dog.

His chest slides over my back and he drills into me. I’m squealing and shaking and begging and then his fingers find my clit and I shatter, thighs trembling and voice warbling. I’m still coming when he shifts and then his fingers are in me too. His fingers and his cock are in me, filling me to bursting. Rough calloused pads rubbing on my walls and I come again, body convulsing as pleasure rockets through me and steals all my control. 

I bury my face in my arms and groan as he slides his fingers from me. He rears back and fucking goes to town, my entire frame shuddering with the force of his thrusts. He groans my name once and then leans back more, his hips moving faster but the motions shorter until he groans again his hips slam into me. I grip my hair as he twitches inside me. Two more hard thrusts with elongated moans and then he falls away from me.

My lips ache and my muscles are useless as I look at him sprawled on the floor, chest heaving. Waffles gets up and goes to him, nuzzling Ryen’s side. Ryen shouts and curses, while I laugh.

“Fuck! Cold nose!” Waffles takes this as encouragement and licks Ryen’s face. “Alright, Alright! I didn’t mean the neutering comment!” 

But we’re both laughing and Ryen’s smiling, his face flushed as he finally manages to sit up and get Waffles to behave. He scratches the dog’s neck and looks up at me. “How’d I do, boy? She looks pretty well taken care of, yeah?”

Waffles blows air through his snout and Ryen nods. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

I have no time to ask what that means before Ryen is on his feet and I’m slung over his shoulder. “To the bedroom. Which one is yours?”

“Open door,” I say through my laughs as he carries me to my bed and throws me onto it.

When I wake in the morning, I groan and stretch carefully. I won’t be able to walk right for a few days, but damn do I feel satisfied. I roll over with a witty comment about Ryen’s chosen form of relaxation on my tongue.

“Yoga,” he told me with a smirk last night. “I’m very bendy.”

Then he proceeded to demonstrate. Top marks for flexibility, holy shit.  


Only… When I roll over, I find that I’m alone.

I blink and shove down the twinge in my chest. No expectations means that I can’t expect him to be here the morning after. I sit up and run my fingers through the tangled mess of my hair, ears perked when I hear a low rumble of a voice.

Wrapping the sheet around me, I shuffle out to our kitchen. I grip tight to the cotton and watch as Ryen feeds a few bits of bacon to Buttercup and then a few to Waffles.

“Now you can’t tell her. I have no idea if I’m ruining your diet here.” I bite my lip as Waffles shoves his nose towards a covered plate on the counter. “No,” Ryen tells him firmly. “Those have chocolate in them. Here’s one of yours.”

He picks up a plain waffle and presents it. Waffles snatches the thing up and retreats to sit beneath the table and gobble it up while Ryen returns to the waffle iron, flipping it open and tipping the fresh waffle onto a plate.

“Are those the special waffles?” I ask and he smiles up at me.

“Chocolate and cherries,” he tells me.

So anyways, that’s how I wind up with Ryen’s dick in my mouth and his fingers twisted in my hair, begging me to stop unless I want him to come in my mouth. I don’t stop. And afterwards, we sit at the table, me wearing in nothing but a sheet, and eat the best waffles I’ve ever had.

  
  
  
  



	4. Muffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one would take place shortly after chapter 3, so early September. If you're keeping track of where this fits with Outside Chance, we're now at the tail end of chapter 18 over there. Clear as mud? Hooray. Enjoy!
> 
> So as a refresher, these are not exactly in order. If you want to read them in the order they happen rather than the order they were written:  
> Chapter 2 - Croissants  
> Chapter 3 - Waffles  
> Chapter 4- Muffins  
> Chapter 1 - Pancakes  
> Chapter 5 - Zucchini Bread

Another day, another dollar. I trudge back to the car and fall into the seat with a groan. Shut the door and lean my head back so I can take a few breaths to center myself. When some of the stress has melted away, I crank the engine and adjust my mirror. Start up some music to listen to on the drive home. When I reach the apartment, I kick off my shoes with Buttercup winding around my ankles and purring. I smile down at him and coo to him while I feed him, then I deal with his litter box, tidy up a bit and manage a shower before collapsing on the couch.

I’ve barely taken a breath when my phone rings and I lift it over my head to stare up at the name and face. Katniss. FaceTime.

“Hey!” I greet her brightly and the lines on her forehead smooth out as she smiles at me.

“Hey Duck. How was work?”

“Oh you know, patients being impatient,” I tell her and she laughs a little.

“I can’t blame them. It’s gotta suck being limited in what you can do.”

“I’d hate to have you as a patient,” I say and she gives me an unconvincing scowl over the screens. “So when’s your flight home? Tomorrow?”

“Two days,” she corrects. “With the time zones and everything I’ll be home two days from now.”

“I’ll be sure to have the place cleaned up and all the stray cats sent to their new homes before you get here.”

“Haha,” she says and smiles. 

We talk some more as I move into the kitchen and put together a salad for a very late lunch, early dinner, garnished with bits of my leftovers from the last week. Very exciting stuff. I tell her some of the funnier stories from work, not about Mr. Parker and his temper tantrums over his torn rotator cuffs and what that does to his ability to play tennis. Katniss doesn’t need that kind of stress this close to the start of her season, so I focus on the patients who have nearly finished their time with us. She tells me all about Peeta’s last race and fights back several yawns.

“Where’s he right now?” I ask and she looks over her shoulder then back at the screen. 

“Sleeping.” With her. Ugh. Lucky girl. I’d love to have a warm body laying next to me tonight, but it’ll be another lonely night of the twenty-one year old cat lady. “Have to wake him up soon to head to the airport.”

We wrap things up for now and say our farewells. It’s already late, so I eat my salad dinner and flop on the couch to read a little for school. Buttercup joins me and I give him some love before focusing on my studies.

I must fall asleep on the couch because I wake with a snort and look around for the source of disturbance. Buttercup licks his paw and blinks at me, his yellow eyes calm. I groan and roll over, off the couch, my text book landing with a thud on the ground. That’s when my phone vibrates across the end table.

I rub sleep from my eyes and yawn as I check the message. The first thing I notice is that it’s from Ryen and my stomach does this weird swooping thing. 

**_What are you up to?_ **

I’ve heard from him here and there since he left with Waffles. There were about three days when he went completely silent. I hate to say that’s what made me do it, but that may have had some influence on my epically bad decision to take Bentley up on his offer of a second date last night.

If I have to fake an orgasm and don’t even feel like finishing myself when I get home later...yeah that’s not gonna work. Thankfully, Bentley agreed that we’re just not compatible when I spoke to him this morning.

_ Studying. What about you?  _ I answer Ryen.

**_What subject?_ **

Avoidance or something else? I tap my fingers on the sides of my phone and stare at the clock, mentally converting time across the globe to figure out what time it is where he is. I’ve just gotten the hang of this time conversion since I’m used to converting to European time for Katniss, but I’m groggy so it takes me a second to figure out that it’s dinner time in New Zealand. Unless he’s already left too. He didn’t exactly give me a detailed copy of his itinerary.

_ Quantum physics _

**_New major? ;)_ **

_ Time zones _

**_Lol_ **

I set aside the phone and stand up to stretch, waiting for him to make the next move. We agreed to keep things casual and not necessarily exclusive. While my interlude with Bentley was disappointing, it’s also the first time I’ve tested that casual, non-exclusive status. I shake my hands and twist my torso, my mind slowly waking with the movement.

I have no reason to feel guilty about my time with Bentley. And yet...I do. It’s ridiculous. What I need is a quick reiteration of the terms with Ryen. This random, friendly texting that we’ve been engaging in is throwing me off. He’s acting like a friend, and I guess that’s what we are. Friends with benefits.

Ah-mazing benefits. Hot sex, hot breakfast, hot guy…

Yep, I need a confirmation that we’re not going to be serious. We adopted a dog. Okay, he adopted the dog, but I feel some sort of parentage towards Waffles and that must be what’s muddling my thoughts.

**_Need a break?_ **

Oh the double entendres he’s not even aware of with that one.

**_From the books_ ** , he clarifies.

_ I just took a nap. _

Before I get into the complexities of what was supposed to be a simple summer fling and fun sex, I ask the all important question.

_ Where is Waffles while you jet around the globe? _

A second later, a picture comes through of Waffles in a field of tall grass, laying on top of an exasperated looking golden retriever.

**_Meet Pepper_ **

Another picture of four young girls playing with Waffles and Pepper the golden retriever.

**_And her human charges. Ariel, Brigid, Caitlin, and Diana Mellark._ **

**_Aka Graham’s rugrats._ **

_ Your nieces are adorable.  _

**_Don’t be fooled by those cherubic faces. They’re sneaky and crafty too. All around trouble._ **

**_I’m never babysitting again._ **

I laugh and make a mental note to ask about  _ that  _ story if I ever see Graham and Savannah.

_ So Waffles is getting spoiled? _

**_Beyond belief._ **

**_But Savannah informs me that he enjoys snacking on frozen carrots and raw green beans, so at least he’s getting his vegetables…?_ **

_ Keep telling yourself that ;) _

**_So about this study break…_ **

_ I should really get back to the books. _

**_Sure thing._ **

I’m almost disappointed that he gave up so easily and gather up my book to head into the kitchen for something cold to drink and a less comfortable chair so I don’t fall asleep again. I set my phone and glass of water at my elbow, settling in for some learning when my phone goes off again.

**_Can we talk later?_ **

That sounds suspicious. Slightly ominous. I fire off an answer, a little annoyed and uncertain of the ground I’m treading right now.

_ If it’s bothering you that much, may as well get it off your chest now. _

**_I’ll wait, Rosie._ **

_ Then you’re somewhere you can’t talk? _

**_No, I can talk. I don’t want to disturb your studying._ **

**_Where are you?_ **

Panic hits then. I can’t be sure of where he is and I know how spontaneous he can be. I just fucked another guy last night and Ryen might be on my doorstep. I look like crap! I swipe at my chin to make sure there’s no drool trails and glance helplessly at what I’m wearing. Who knows how many women he’s been with in the past week. In the months between when I saw him here and in Wyoming before that. I’m not sure if this is breaking up or rocking the boat but whatever it is, I have an insane urge to keep things exactly as they are.

_ At home. Were you planning a bit of phone sex or something? _

The joke is off my fingertips and around the world before I can even think about what I’m saying.

But honestly...I wouldn’t refuse phone sex right now. It’d probably be a million times better than my time with Bentley.

**_I wasn’t_ **

A shame. I blow out a frustrated breath and resign myself back to the books.

**_But now I’m seriously thinking about it_ **

A rush of heat starts somewhere in my skull, burning a path from my ears down to the apex of my thighs. I clench them together and shift in my seat. Shove the book away from me and type.

_ Well now so am I _

_ You’re breaking my concentration _

**_Maybe you need a quick release_ **

**_A shock to your system to help you relax_ **

**_Then you’ll focus better_ **

_ Is that the line you use on other skiers? _

I can’t help the tease and wait, anticipating his answer.

**_It’d work on your patients too_ **

I smile and roll my eyes at the subtle reminder that we’re not supposed to ask questions about who we’re with when we’re apart. It’s turning out to be a difficult rule to follow.

_ Maybe it already has. ;) _

**_I think I have a serious injury and need your skilled attention_ **

_ Hmmmm...well I’m not sure the complexities of injury can be explained and discussed over text. _

No sooner is my message marked as  **Delivered** than my phone starts ringing.

“How fast can you get naked?”

I gasp in shock although I’m stifling laughter. “I am in my kitchen!”

“Didn’t stop you a week ago,” he says, reminding me not only of how I blew him in here but how when we were done eating the waffles he made, he bent me over the table and made me scream loud enough that our neighbor stopped by to check on me.

“You’re right,” I say and caress over my neck. “Guess you’ll just have to picture me sitting at the table.”

“Naked?” he asks eagerly.

“Slow down, Tiger,” I tease and hear him groan softly. “Remember I was just studying.”

“You should try it in the buff,” he says and I can’t help the laugh that bursts free. “For now, tell me what you are wearing.”

“Pajama pants and a tank top,” I say softly, leaving out the boyshorts and lack of bra.

“One of those camisole things?”

“Yes,” I say and he sighs.

“Your tits would look amazing in one of those.”

“You wanna see?” I ask, blushing stupidly at his words.

“Fuck yes,” he whispers and I hold the phone away and switch through screens to send the picture to him. When I have the phone back by my ear, he’s silent for a moment.

“Ryen?”

“Can I see your face too?”

“It’s been a long day,” I say and he chuckles.

“I don’t care. You could have just come from a mud run and I’d still wanna fuck you. Dirty and deep.” I suck in a breath.

“Okay,” I agree and send the picture just as he sends one of himself. There are circles under his eyes and he’s a little pale, but otherwise he looks delectable, his hand slipped inside his sweat pants and an obvious bulge there. It takes me a second to shake off my ogling and speak to him again. “Are you gonna talk or just sit there and stare at my picture?”

“Rosie, you’re gonna have to get yourself there fast. Fuck, I’m so hard, ung. But I want you to come with me.” He moans a few times and I close my eyes, lean back in the chair and slide my hand up under my shirt to fondle my breasts for a moment and then down into my pants to rub myself over my panties while I listen to his words and his moans scattered between. “Thinking about how you taste. And your tits. Fuck your tits.”

“Fuck my tits?” I giggle and he laughs, breathless and short.

“Yeah, I mean I wanna fuck your tits and cum on them. Then make you come with my mouth. Once, twice, as many time as I can before I get hard again.”

His voice is slurred and out of control and I think about asking if he’s drunk, but he keeps talking about biting me and sucking away the sting. Licking my pussy and how my scent drives him wild with need. Pounding his dick into my pussy while he fingers my ass and makes me come so hard I forget how to breathe.

“Rosie, baby are close? Oh, oh fuck I’m gonna come.”

“Wait,” I plead and he groans.

“Okay, I can — I can wait.”

“Put your hands over your head and talk to me,” I say.

My fingers don’t seem to be enough tonight so I rush through the apartment to my room and put him on speaker while I strip down and flop on my bed, grab my vibrator and go to town on my clit while he talks. Half the words don’t make sense, but I’m a little desperate.

“Wait what’s that noise?”

“What noise?” I gasp and stifle a squeak as I turn up the pace on my vibrator.

“Sounds like a buzzing.” I freeze and pant with the phone right next to my head, hanging off the edge. “Oh shit,” his voice cracks in a squeak and he groans. “Fuck you’re using a vibrator, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whisper and he curses again.

“Is it as big as me?”

“Bigger,” I say out of spite and he chuckles.

“Good. Then you can come harder when you stick it in your cunt and I’ll get to hear it. But you know what that thing can’t do, Rosie?”

“What?” I ask, and wriggle on my bed, frustrated that I haven’t come yet.

“It can’t suck your tits. And I know how much you like having your tits sucked. Fuck you make the sexiest noises when I’ve got your nipples in my mouth. Every suck, every lick making them harder.”

“Oh my god,” I moan and arch on the bed, my hips bucking as his words tickle down my senses and pool between my legs.

“Can’t suck your clit either, or grip your thighs, massage your ass. Can’t kiss you breathless or whisper to you how amazing you are. That vibrator can’t fly half a world away and dream about you or wish he could wake up beside you and make you come on his tongue before you’ve even had breakfast. Because it doesn’t have a tongue. And you know what else that vibrator can’t do?”

I try to ask him what else it can’t do, but I’m so close. Clenched with toes curled to the point of pain, hips jerking short and fast to feel more of the vibrations. I mumble incoherent words and beg for release. “Gonna come, Ryen. Please?”

“It can’t make you breakfast, Rosie.”

For some reason that’s what does it. What has me jerking on the bed with my legs clamped and my vibrator sliding between my lips and whining to him.

“Fuck yes,” he whispers and I barely hear the sounds of his fist on his cock, fast and hard through some kind of lube. As my last tremors fade, I listen to his moans growing louder and choppy until he shouts out his own release. 

It’s a few seconds of both of us panting into the phone before he speaks again.

“Rosie, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” I ask and my stomach sinks a little.

“Maybe a little buzzed.” I take a deep breath and center myself. I don’t know why it bothers that he called me under the influence. 

“Then you’re going to drink some water, take an aspirin, and go to sleep,” I whisper.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know, but we agreed to casual for a reason.”

“What if that was a mistake?”

A strange twist grips my heart. I’ve always thought I was good at figuring out how I feel, but this one eludes me. I’m relaxed from my orgasm and happy to hear from him, but I don’t know how much our carefree time at Skadi and his taking in Waffles has colored my view of him.

He’s still a notorious playboy. If I went online right now, I’d find at least three dozen pictures of him with other girls. Maybe it’s hypocritical of me, but when I stop fooling around, I want him to stop as well. I’m just having fun right now, but whenever I make that choice...I think of my parents and how in love they were. The dozens of other half-happy or mostly miserable couples I know who settled or deceived themselves.

Ryen is sweet and funny but also never in one place very long. Never with one person for long.

“I don’t think it was.” I bite my lip and break our rules. “I went out with someone just yesterday, Ryen.”

“That was yesterday,” he says and then sighs. “You’re probably right. Guess it’s just that I’ve never had someone back home to call or talk to like this.”

“I can imagine Gramps wouldn’t care for it much if you talked to him the way you just did to me,” I say and he laughs. “It’ll make more sense in the morning when the alcohol wears off.”

“Right,” he says, laughter fading away. “Good night then, Rosie. I wish...sweet dreams.”

I curl up in bed after cleaning myself up and stare at the walls. Maybe this  _ was _ a mistake. In the morning, I’m thinking about calling him to maybe talk about some ground rules if we're gonna try something not casual, but I stall, checking email and everything else first. And I am reminded why we’re casual when I see the picture of him with a woman in a sequin dress wrapped around him on a dance floor just days ago. The caption reads  _ Ryen Mellark of the USA and Vienne Rochette of France. _

France. I’ve never even been outside the US.

But I refuse to sit around and sulk or feel inferior. I take myself for a quick run, shower and eat breakfast, and when I’m feeling invigorated and awake, I gather up my books. I’m graduating in May, have a great job that I love, a kickass athlete of a sister to support, family and friends who love me and even if I have a bad day, I don’t stay down for long. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me and I knew what I was doing when I started this fling with Ryen. I’m the midnight booty call and the dash of fun and stress relief. But that’s okay, because that’s what he is for me, too.

There’s a spring in my step as I head towards the door, a little surprised when there’s a knock and I open it to find a guy in a white hat and apron, the words  _ Peak Place Bakery  _ embroidered across the chest.

“Primrose Everdeen?” he asks, reading it off the ticket taped on top of a white box.

“That’s me!” I say with a smile as he looks up at me. 

“Delivery.”

“Oh. I didn’t order anything?” He’s cute and he smiles back at me.

“It’s prepaid in full, Miss,” he explains and pushes the box towards me. I take it and stare down at the name on the order. It’s mine alright. I thank him and he leaves before I can scrounge up money for a tip, looking over his shoulder at me once in a way that makes me think I should go check out Peak Place Bakery later.

I take the box to my car and set it on the passenger seat, a little apprehensive as I lift the lid and find a dozen scrumptious looking muffins.

My phone chimes and I dig it out of my purse to stare at the message.

_ Share them with your friends. Have a good day at class <3 _

Damn him. Damn him and his stupid breakfast. 

I curse him all the way to campus and all through eating the delicious muffins with the girls. They gush over how good they are and I inform them that the delivery guy was seriously hot and I’m so going back to this place since Bentley turned out to be a dud, telling them that delivery boy is totally worth the trip. The words taste sweeter with the pumpkin and cream cheese muffin still lingering on my tongue. I know it might take me a few days, but I'll right this train and get my mind off dogs and breakfast and solidly set on on sex. Sex and fun.  


It turns out to be surprisingly easy when I'm not stressed out.

 


	5. Zucchini Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would follow immediately after Chapter 1: Pancakes of this story. If you’re keeping track of where that falls within the timeline of “Outside Chance,” this means we’re back somewhere in the middle of chapter 20 of that story. Katniss is still in Austria and Peeta is in Wyoming. Wiress’ injury and everything else would be a little over a week after this. I’m going cross eyed trying to keep all these days and locations straight. 
> 
> So! The chronological order of chapters:  
> Chapter 2: Croissants  
> Chapter 3: Waffles  
> Chapter 4: Muffins  
> Chapter 1: Pancakes  
> Chapter 5: Zucchini Bread

I made light of my coursework to Katniss when I was registering for classes over the summer, and now I’m paying for that. Karma’s a bitch, didn’t you know? This lit teacher turned out to be a real hard ass. He should consider a second career as a coach if he’s ever in need of the extra cash. I mean, I like the challenge, but I’ve started to wonder if taking this class wasn’t a mistake. He doesn’t miss a thing, which means I can’t get away with one quick read through of anything. Since this is my first read of our current assignment, I skim and scribble hasty notes on things I want to come back to on my second, more in depth reading, depending on the events of future chapters. Also, I’ll need to work fast if I’m gonna include any of the material from this book into my term paper.

Eventually I set aside the book and rub my eyes. While I’m determined to get a decent grade in my elective, I can’t let myself get distracted from my degree coursework either. I should probably take a break, but I crack open my text book for biomechanics and sigh. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I’m studying, but sometimes the amount of knowledge I’m expected to have memorized just to apply to higher level concepts can be dizzying.

And I’ll be honest, staring at charts of muscles has my mind wandering to less academic places. Like the feel of Ryen’s muscular thighs against mine last night. The sound of his hoarse voice in my ear. The flex and then release of my own muscles in response to pleasure. The taste of pancakes on my tongue and his gorgeous smile after revealing us to my sister.

My brow furrows and I groan, flop back on the couch and cover my face. What am I doing? And why did he do that? I must be an idiot.

We were doing so well. After that brief snafu while he was in New Zealand and called me while he was drunk to have phone sex, we’ve been so good. No questions or expectations. No jealousies or talk of mistakes. We’ve kept up regular text and phone conversations, true, but he’s been so busy the past two months with his own competitions and I’ve been swamped with school, so there hasn’t been time to even think about changing what we are let alone actually taking steps to do that.

Then last night he shows up in town and tells me he can’t stop thinking about me? That he wants to see more of me? When exactly am I supposed to cram him in?!

_ Whenever you can _ , whispers a seductive thought in my brain. 

No. No no no no no.

I told Katniss that it’s casual. I told my friends when they asked me about him this morning that it’s casual. Nothing, really. I’ve been telling myself that it’s just sex. Telling him the same thing. I refuse to sit on my hands here, waiting for him, and then dropping everything when he happens to wander in. I’ve got a life to live, too! It might not be as exciting as his, but it’s mine.

But the way he makes me feel...god there’s nothing else like it.

“Shit,” I mutter and sit upright on the couch and yank my book back into my lap.

I’ve got finals to prep for. I don’t have time for this. I manage a few minutes before my phone interrupts. I tap my pencil on the page and stare at the damn thing before finally snatching it up.

The first thing I notice is that it’s a text from Ryen. And I’m almost instantly wet. Double shit.

**_Dinner plans?_ **

Fuck him and his sexting skills. It’s inhumane, the way he can send just a handful of words and have me hanging on the edge of my seat and squirming in discomfort. Now I’m responding sexually to the most innocent of questions.

_ Studying for finals,  _ I tell him.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so effective if he weren’t traveling all over creation and through so many time zones that sometimes I wonder how accurate his age is at this point. The unfortunate side effect is that I’m left strung along and waiting for what he’ll say next. We don’t engage in sexting sprints so much as we engage in sexting marathons, teasing each other through the whole day. Sometimes I selfishly wonder if he’s skiing with a hard on because of me.

Probably not, but a girl can dream, right?

**_Aren’t those next week?_ **

_ Yes. I’m getting a head start. How was training? _

**_Great. I’m a little sore but ready._ **

I make an exasperated noise in my throat. He stopped by to squeeze in some training on his way to god knows where, insert exotic locale that I’ve never been to here, for his next competition. He told me, but it’s hard enough keeping track of Katniss. I don’t have the brain power to keep up with Ryen’s schedule too. 

Not if it’s just casual.

Anyways! He’s trying to add a half rotation to one of his tricks and a flip to another one. Aiming for that gold in Korea.

**_We could order in some takeout so you can keep studying_ **

**_Tell me what kind of food you want and I’ll get it on my way to your place_ **

_ Don’t you have a hotel room? _

**_I’d rather spend time with you._ **

_ And what do you get out of watching me study? _

**_The joy of seeing how smart you are_ **

**_The company of an incredibly sexy woman_ **

**_Also, if you study now, you’ll have more time for fun. Be relaxed and ready for finals._ **

**_I like a relaxed Rosie ;)_ **

**_Trust me, it’s a far more enjoyable way to spend my time than watching late night HBO alone._ **

Somehow I can’t quite picture him spending his nights on the road alone in his hotel room watching TV. It doesn’t fit the playboy image. Plus it’s such a bad idea, letting him stay here while I study. That’s not fun or sexy. That’s bordering on relationship territory. 

I stare down at my textbook, seeking answers that I won’t find there, but my stomach growls and if I’m being honest, it’s nice to have someone here to break up the long stretches of being alone while Katniss is gone.

_ Alright,  _ I finally concede and send him the name of a really good local place that serves gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches.

**_Be there in about thirty_ **

I suppose casual could still mean casually hanging out and then casually having sex when we want to, as long as the other rules still apply. No questions, no expectations, etc blah blah blah. 

Then, an idea begins to take shape in my head. This could be lots of fun. The most fun I’ve ever had for a study session. And a reminder to both of us of what we are to each other. I chant it to myself over and over instead of getting any studying done while I wait for him, which is just another reason why this can’t be serious. I need to focus on school. He needs to focus on his season.

_ Sex and fun. Fun and sex. Fun sex.  _ I repeat it in my head and turn it into a ridiculous ditty.

A strange tingling sweeps through me when he knocks on the door and I brush it aside along with my sloppy ponytail. I look a mess, I’m sure, but when I open the door, he doesn’t seem to care. Ryen’s smile is slow and irresistible as he takes in my less than sexy appearance. But he’s dressed in a similar manner -- a comfy looking henley shirt and sweatpants underneath his hanging open coat.

“Guess it’s been a long day for us both,” I say and motion for him to enter.

“You have no idea,” he says as I shut and lock the door, a little curious at what he means by that. He said training went well. “So food first, or food while studying?”

“Food first. It smells delicious,” I say and we get set up in the kitchen. Right before we sit down, though, he plants a soft kiss on my lips. It’s gentle yet warms me through, all the way to my toes. I sit in a bit of a daze and answer his questions about my day in class and my study lunch with Jordan. I can’t help but notice he’s especially attentive to those answers and provide most of them from behind my sandwich. I manage to shift the focus to him and his training after that, which lasts us until the food is gone.

“So, it occurred to me while I was waiting what you can do to help me study,” I tell him as we stand and clean up the kitchen.

“I’m at your disposal,” he says with a smile. 

“Good. Follow me.” I lead him to the living room and push aside the coffee table to make a wide space and turn to him. “Strip.”

“What?” he asks with half a laugh and I cross my arms.

“I learn better with visual aids.”

“Okay?” He seems uncertain but still removes his shirt, pausing to check that I actually mean it.

“Keep going.”

“What exactly is it we’re studying for again?” Ryen asks as he pushes his sweatpants down to the floor and I let my eyes wander for a moment. Yep. I already knew it, but seeing him again reassures me. I have chosen my visual aid well.

“Biomechanics,” I explain and he lifts one eyebrow at me. “You can leave the shorts on and lay down on the floor. On your stomach.”

He grins at me and strips off his shorts anyways. “Don’t want you to miss any important parts.”

“On the floor,” I say as sternly as I can manage faced with a completely naked Ryen and his half stiff cock. His grin widens and he grabs a blanket to spread on the carpet before laying on it. “The more trouble you cause, the longer this will take.”

“That sounds more like an incentive than a threat,” he says as he stretches out on his stomach, giving me a great view of his ass and the muscles of his back.

“Do you know why your coaches make you do so much weight training?” I ask as I shift his arms so they’re at his sides instead of curved over his head like he had them.

“Because they’re sadists?” I chuckle at that and tilt my head to examine him. Grab his ankles and spread his legs a little wider. His ass clenches for a second and he glances back at me with a question in his eyes.

“Because they’re building a kind of armor on your body. Freestyle skiers take some nasty falls and having a thick layer of muscle actually protects you from more serious injury.”

“Well that’s great for those who fall, but for me--” He stops talking when I straddle his hips.

“So let’s start up here,” I say and rest my fingers on the sides of his neck. “These are the sternocleidomastoid, the semispinalis capitis, the splenius capitis, and the splenius cervicis which are vital in your ability to move your head and also your spine. They’re structured in a way that allows rotation, flexion, it’s partner extension, and bending motion.” I finish out the posterior neck muscles and walk my fingers over his shoulders, tracing the shape with my nails. “Levator scapulae, supraspinatus, and deltoids. Now down to your back…”

His skin flinches beneath my touch as I flatten my palm and smooth over the long fan shape, “trapezius,” each muscle responding as I draw the shape and name it, murmur what forms of motion it’s used for. “Rhomboid minor, serratus posterior superior, terrus minor, terrus major.. _. _ ” His breathing picks up as I shift down his body and my fingers tickle over his ribs. “Latissimus dorsi…” All the way down to internal oblique where he groans something about dirty talk getting out of hand and I bite my lip then skip down to his leg, trailing my finger down each long leg muscle as I recite the names. “Adductor magnus, semitendinosus, biceps femoris...” I keep going, watching goosebumps rise on his skin and his hips as they roll impatiently, down to his feet, which takes awhile to cover with the all the complex tendons woven with muscle. His feet twitch a little beneath the scrape of my nails and I store that away for future use as I work my way back up his legs, covering flexion and extension and what each muscle back here does when he skis, up to his ass.

“Gluteus maximus,” I say with laughter in my voice as I massage it and he clenches. “I see you have excellent control of that one.”

“Is this how you study with Jordan?”

“We haven’t tried it yet, but I wouldn’t be averse to it. Gluteus medius,” I say and then spread his cheeks. He squirms and grips the blanket. “Now this is the sphincter.”

“Rosie--” He tries to roll over and I place a hand on his back to hold him down.

“A very important muscle.” He groans as I prattle on while touching him and then finally sit to the side. “Now you may turn over.”

“Turn...there’s more?”

“You have an entire set of muscles on your front, Ryen. Really, an athlete such as yourself should be more in tune with your body.”

“I’m very in tune with my body,” he says as he sits up and leans towards me. “And right now, it’s screaming at me to engage in practical applications of the subject matter.”

“Ah, ah,” I say with a scolding wave of my finger, careful to appear stern and not like I’m stupidly turned on right now. “We’re not done yet. On your back”

His smirk wavers, but he does as I’ve asked. Ryen swallows heavily and grips the blanket, making several of the muscles in his arm bunch up so I start there, diving straight into the more complex underlying structure of the shoulder and then when he’s panting, I work my way down the arm, “Long head of biceps brachii, brachialis...” to his wrist and then I have to pry his hand off the blanket to cover those. 

“Your doing very well,” I coo as I let go of his hand. 

“Shouldn’t I say that?” he gasps and reaches for me. I grab his arms and hold them to the floor, plant my knees on his wrists and one hand on his chest while he wriggles beneath me, his pupils blown wide and teeth marks in his bottom lip. It’s not easy to keep myself detached when he looks at me like that.

“We’ve just started on the anterior. Can I trust you not to grope me while I’m studying?”

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I’ll behave.”

He squeezes his eye shut as I slide my knees off his wrists listen to him suck air in his lungs when my legs brush his cock while I reposition myself to go over the muscles that stretch between shoulder and chest, “clavicular head of pectoralis major, sternocostal head of pectoralis major, pectoralis major…” trace the shapes of the external oblique and the serratus anterior, outline each section of his abdominal muscles, “rectus abdominis muscle, tendinous inscription,” but it’s clear he’s clenching them for my benefit. Hard as rocks beneath his skin and almost quivering by the time I move on.

My entire body is flushed and warm, begging to end both our torments, but i am determined. I am going to finish what I started here, although for life of me, I’m having a hard time remembering why the hell I want to do that.

For one second, I let my hands hover near his groin and watch his knuckles whiten and the blanket pull taut beneath him. Then I skip straight to his legs and spill a few out in a rush of breath. “Sartorius. The group that makes up what you know as your quadriceps: rectus femoris, vastus medialis—“

“You forgot one,” he says and lifts his head. It takes me a second to realize what he’s referring to and I narrow my eyes at him.

“That’s  _ not _ a muscle.”

“Then how come I can move it?” he says, sitting up on his elbows and smiling as his cock lurches. “See?” But I know the muscles actually doing the work.

“We’ll get to that later,” I say and place my hand on his chest.

“Practical applications?”

“I usually don’t have sex with my study partners.”

“Not even Jordan?” He’s fixated on Jordan. It’s thrilling and scary. Flattering and worrisome, so I push him down onto his back once more. 

“You’re the only person I’m having sex with right now,” I murmur and his head pops up again, eyes bright and a crooked smile on his face. 

“Am I really?”

“Do you see anyone else in the room?” I say and he groans, his head dropping back to the floor. “Now let me finish.”

Down the legs “Peroneus longus, tibialis anterior...” And then back up. “Soleus, gastrocnemius...” until I reach his hips once more.

“Now these are the hip flexors. They allow for flexion -- bringing your knee toward your chest -- extension -- it’s opposite -- abduction and adduction,” for this I push his leg out like the Vitruvian man and then back in, “as well as thrusting.” His hips buck slightly beneath my touch. “Exactly.” 

His cock is swollen, fully erect and an almost angry shade of red. I should probably back off of him or he’ll go off like a bottle rocket when we get to the climax of this lesson, but I have to admit, seeing him sweat and squirm like this is enormously gratifying and stimulating.

“This is the most strenuous study session I’ve ever had,” he pants. 

I bite back a laugh and name the muscles for him as I touch his fevered skin. “Iliopsoas -- consisting of the psoas major, psoas minor, and iliacus. The pectineus, sartorius…” He releases short puffs of air every time I move away from his cock. I have to slide my hand beneath him to locate a few of the muscles that are grouped with the hip flexors and he obediently lifts himself to give me access, but I know I’ve about hit his breaking point.

I’ve about hit mine.

I stand, slowly remove my clothes while he watches eagerly. “Now for your earlier question. There are no muscles in your cock. When you move it like that, you’re exercising the ischiocavernosus and the bulbocavernosus, which among a few others, make up the pelvic floor muscles.” I spread his legs again and ignore his soft curses as I kneel between them. “They stretch like a hammock from here,” I press the tip of my finger to him and feel the spasm beneath before drawing a line up beneath his balls, “to here.”

He curses again and I remove my hands from him, leave him holding himself together and waiting. His eyes fly open and he looks down at me, but then he asks something I’m not expecting from him.

“Wait. Are those the muscles they tell pregnant women to exercise to make giving birth easier? And then to recover after?”

“They are,” I say with a curious tilt of my head and he actually blushes a little.

“I’ve... read...a lot of different things while waiting. In airplanes and airports.” I almost laugh but instead wave towards his groin.

“Well let’s see them at work,” I say and his embarrassment turns to arrogance as he flexes and his cock sways with the motion. And I decide that’s enough studying tonight. I find a condom and sheath him.

“Rosie,” he says as he sits up at the same time I straddle him. He kisses my neck and shoulders while I grip his dick and slam down onto him. “Fuck! Not gonna last long. You’ve teased me right to the edge.”

“What if I gave you exercises to focus on?” I ask and he gapes at me.

“Like what?” I flex my own pelvic floor muscles and his head falls back with a tortured groan. “Not helping.”

“Those were my pelvic floor muscles. Now your turn.”

“Will that…” he tries it despite his concerns and I suck in a sharp breath, releasing it in a tremulous moan as he does it again. “Holy fuck. All these years I thought school was boring.”

I laugh and then move my hips over him and Ryen asks me which muscles we’re exercising now. I gasp out the names and he caresses up my back, shifts my feet to plant them on either side of his hips then thrusts up into me.

“Ryen,” I gasp out his name and grip his shoulders as we bounce and move together. I tuck my face into his neck and name the trapezius before biting down on it. He curses and rolls us, my body half off the blanket as he drives into me then stops, making me whine in protest until I feel the lurch of his cock inside me and I claw at his back, squeeze him in return a few times.

Something snaps and we thrust wildly against each other. My gut coils tight and I clench those muscles, grip his ass and he names the ones I’m grabbing this time. Kisses my shoulder and names those too. I didn’t think he was paying that much attention. He sucks on my ear lobe and groans in my ear.

“The heart’s made of muscle,” he whispers. “Guess we’re giving those a workout, too.”

He lifts his head and kisses me, his hips still setting a frantic pace as I wrap my legs around him and bury my fingers in his hair. He pours moans down my throat until I can’t take it and shatter with a scream in his mouth. 

Two more thrusts and he breaks the kiss to throw his head back with a loud shout, his hips slamming into mine, shoving us up the blanket. Our heads smack into the coffee table legs and I yelp, but the pain is gone in an instant, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure still rolling through me.

 

When Ryen’s finished, his weight presses down into me and his half-crazed laughter tickles over my shoulder.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” he moans and then lifts his head to peer down at me. There are a thousand questions in his eyes and I’m so relaxed and limber right now that I might just answer them. So I weave my fingers back through his hair and pull him down to kiss me.

 

We’re both spent and we lay there, still joined together and kissing for what feels like forever. Eventually, we manage to stagger through the apartment to the shower. Ryen lets me manipulate his limbs while we wash and go over groupings and complementary movements. He starts stealing kisses before I can delve into common injuries and we fall into bed naked and still slick with water, towels caught between our bodies as we make a mess of my sheets. It’s hasty and sloppy since we’re both still tired from round one, but it’s still fucking amazing.

 

And in the morning, I wake to his lips on my skin and the aroma of something baking in the kitchen. For one second, I think I smell cinnamon and my pulse kicks into high gear.

 

“Good morning,” he murmurs to my navel and traces my hip with his tongue. “We didn’t get to common injuries last night.”

 

“You’re not gonna burn whatever is in the oven, are you?” I ask but roll my hips so he can settle between my legs and smile up at me.

 

“Zucchini bread,” he whispers to my folds and then licks along the side of one while I grab hold of my pillow and watch his eyes. “It won’t be ready for another forty minutes. So...tell me all about these common injuries.”

 

I start talking and I must be a fucking genius because I’m still spouting off knowledge when I start coming in his mouth. He slides up my body and my hands frantically grab at him and wander. He whispers questions and rolls on a condom while I scream back at him about regenerative exercises sprinkled with curse words and demands for him to fuck me now.

 

“Just don’t write  _ that  _ part on your final, Rosie,” he murmurs and then enters me in one swift stroke. Words become impossible after that. At least until we’re sprawled across my bed, sheets tangled with our limbs and his fingers tracing swirls over my thigh and knee.

“Would you...would you want to come to Seiseralm in March? See me compete? I know you’ve got school and work, but the dates line up with your spring break and I know you’re already going to Korea for the Olympics, I just thought maybe…” He trails off and swallows as I stare at him.

“You want me there?”

“I...yes. I do.”

It’s still several months away. So much could change between us before then, but there’s also the nagging reminder that me going would change things. It’s an invitation into the biggest part of his life.

“Where exactly is that?”

“Italy,” he says and I shake my head.

“Ryen, I don’t have that kind of money. I’d love to see Italy, or anyplace outside of the US really. I’ve always wanted to do something like that. I just. I’m saving for Korea and I can’t ask Katniss or Haymitch for more than I already do.”

“I’ll cover it,” he says and tears well up in my eyes. A kind of shame I’m not used to.

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s really not a big deal. I’ve got more frequent flyer miles than I know what to do with. I’ll use some of those, okay? Rosie--”

“I’ll think about it,” I say to stop him from saying something sweet and I’m just thankful when the timer goes off and he has to leave my bed to get the bread out of the oven. I take a moment to compose myself, to examine every angle of what’s happening here. It’s barely December and he’s asking me to travel to Italy to see him compete. That’s three months away. It’s still on my mind while we shower and get dressed while the bread cools. While we eat. While he kisses me at the door, on his way to check out of his hotel and head back off to who knows where.

“Don’t think about it too much,” he whispers. I’m not sure what to think of that and smack my head on the door when he’s gone. Because I want to go with him. So much.

Yep. I’m an idiot.


	6. Omelets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder! Which you're probably getting tired of, but oh well... These chapters were written as outtakes to the Main story "Outside Chance" as inspiration came to me. Which means they're not in perfect chronological order. For those who prefer to read in time order rather here you go:
> 
> Chronological Order -  
> Chapter 2: Croissants  
> Chapter 3: Waffles  
> Chapter 4: Muffins  
> Chapter 1: Pancakes  
> Chapter 5: Zucchini Bread  
> Chapter 6: Omelets
> 
> For those of you following "Outside Chance" and attempting to line up the two stories, this takes place in conjunction with Chapter 21: A Commercial Break
> 
> Here we go! ;)

The door rattles behind me and my fingers ache from clinging to Ryen’s neck. His hands cup my ass, holding me suspended as he thrusts. My thighs burn, stretched near their limit with both my legs draped over his right shoulder and his cock driving into me.

“Fuck, Rosie. I’m gonna come,” he moans desperately.

“Wait not yet,” I beg and he pauses in his thrusting to kiss me. I’m not even sure how he managed to get me into this contortionist pose in the first place, but here we are.

Taken up against the door like a beast...check.

I’m trussed up with my pants and panties caught around my ankles, my boots still on my feet, my body folded in half. But we couldn’t wait. The second he opened the hotel room door that I’m now being fucked up against, I knew exactly what was about to happen.

He fumbles one handed with the laces on my boots and then he laughs as he yanks on one to get it off, his chest pressing into the backs of my legs, forcing air from my chest.

“How’d we get in this mess?” he asks when he’s got one boot loose.

“Here let me. Hold me,” I say and his hand returns to cup my ass, hips rotating and teasing me as I yank on laces and boot heels. “Got one!”

It falls to the floor. I teeter and sway on shaky feet as he sets me on them, only to pull my pants down, freeing one leg of restrictions. Then he’s kneeling and draping that leg over his shoulder. Burying his face between my legs and then I’m desperately fucking his tongue, warning him when I’m close.

“Come on my face, Rosie,” he groans and dives back in. My fingers twist in his hair and my legs ache as I draw taut, grinding and begging and finally coming so hard I see stars and hear angels sing. Or maybe that warbling sound is me.

The door rattles again as he stands and slams into me, holding my one bare leg curled around his waist. He thrusts wildly and I hang on until he comes with a shout and a palm smacked on the door.

I’m limp in his arms, giggling and sliding down the door, bare ass squealing against the wood.

“Now that’s a booty call,” I gasp out and he laughs against my ear, breathless and sexy.

We collapse in a heap on the floor and Ryen holds me close. I keep track of his heart beat as it slows beneath my palm. Waffles makes a noise from his bed and hurries over to demand a few pets from me, huffing in protest since I didn’t greet him when I arrived. I scratch behind his ears and apologize for neglecting him.

“I have something for you,” Ryen whispers, kissing me sweetly on the ear. He stretches and grabs at a piece of paper on the dresser. Waffles pads over and paws it off, into Ryen’s hand. “Thanks buddy.”

He hands me the folded paper and smiles.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“Just read it,” he says. I hesitate at the note of uncertainty in his tone and unfold it, scanning the contents.

A cold flame sweeps through me and I shake my head. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“What? No!”

“Ryen, I don’t understand,” I say and manage to disentangle myself from his hold.

“I just thought you’d want to know.”

“Oh yes,” I say and grab my discarded purse. I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation as I drag myself and my half hanging off of me clothes towards the bathroom, my pussy still slick with my own come and lubricant from his condom. He actually has the nerve to follow me. “Just what every girl wants for a Christmas present. An STI report!”

He looks like I slapped him and I almost throw myself into his arms to apologize. Instead I slam the bathroom door in his face.

“Rosie...Rosie please. I didn’t mean...I just thought... Fuck!”

I ignore both his pleading and cursing through the door. I take my time washing my face and taming my hair. Brushing him from my mouth and cleaning him from between my legs.

I’m not being fair, I know that. We agreed to no presents. Actually, I basically told him no presents for Christmas. After his invitation to pay for a trip to Italy...I knew I’d never be able to afford the kind of gifts he’s used to receiving. I still haven’t even decided if I’m going to Italy and he hasn’t asked for an answer yet.

When I emerge, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, bouncing one leg in agitation. He managed to get his clothes back on at least.

“I should go,” I whisper and Ryen lifts his head.

“Wait. Why?”

“Because,” I say pathetically.

“I was trying to be responsible,” he says and I nod.

“I know, but how long is that test going to be accurate for?”

“Ouch,” he says and I cross my arms to protect myself from the real pain I see in his eyes.

“Ryen, I really like you. And I really like having sex with you. So can we just stick to what we agreed to? I don’t expect these kinds of explanations,” I say and hold the test out for him. He stares down at it and refuses to take it.

“If that’s what you want,” he says and I stuff the test in my purse and hurry towards the door.

“I have to get home,” I make excuses for my haste. “Katniss will worry if I’m not home from work soon.”

Only she’s not worried at all. I know she’s not based on the tang of recent sex in the warm air of our apartment and the trail of discarded clothes down the hall. Sometimes I fucking hate my sister.

I gather up her clothes and tiptoe to her room. I knock lightly but all is silent, so I dump the clothes just inside her door and glare at the two of them asleep in her bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms and secure in their love. Because I’m nice, I even drag Peeta’s forgotten luggage into her room. Besides, it’s not like this has ever been a regular occurrence, and she did take care of me all those years. The least I can do is help a little now that she’s finally allowing herself to live and love and be happy.

Then I take a shower to scrub Ryen off of me and try to forget that he handed me a clean bill of health like it would make me happy. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I feel like a fish nipping at bait that’ll be snatched away just before it’s within my grasp.

I’m just grateful that tomorrow is the press day and he’ll be busy with that and I’ll be busy with work. As I’m towel drying my hair, my phone chimes with a text from him.

**_I’m sorry if I crossed a line tonight. I really was just trying to be responsible._ **

More follow quickly on the heels of the first.

**_Rosie, I told you I don’t know what I’m doing here._ **

**_I don’t always go back for seconds, if you get my meaning._ **

**_Certainly not third or fourth. You’re the first person I’ve been with that I can’t seem to get enough of or stop thinking about and I have no idea how to handle this._ **

**_I don’t expect you to hand over a test of your own. And we won’t stop using condoms._ **

**_I just want to show you that I can deserve your trust._ **

**_I can do this. Please?_ **

I finish drying my hair and putting on pajamas. I sit on my bed and pull the test back out of my purse to take a good look at it. It’s actually three tests stapled together, going back to September, all of them declaring Ryen Mellark’s dick to be disease free. I sigh and pace my room for a moment or two before answering him.

_What exactly is ‘this’? Be specific._

**_Ask me who I’ve been with in the past three months._ **

Since that first test in the pile. Oh god, I have a really bad feeling that I’m not going to like his answer. Just the fact that he’s suggesting I ask makes me think the answer is me, and only me. But how is that even possible? Why would he do that?

_We said no questions_

**_I don’t care. Ask me._ **

_What if I’m not ready to answer when you ask me the same thing?_

**_I won’t ask. Not unless you tell me to._ **

**_But if you won’t ask me either, then that’s fine too._ **

**_I can wait. We can stay exactly as we are now until you’re ready to ask me or you lose interest in me._ **

**_Whichever comes first._ **

**_You’re worth it, Rosie_ **

I groan and toss my phone aside. Then bury my face in my pillow. He’s saying everything I want to hear but the problem is...I don’t know if I can trust him not to break me into a thousand pieces somewhere down the road. I don’t know if I can trust myself not to break him into a thousand pieces.

I can’t solve this problem now and certainly not on an empty stomach, so I drag myself to the kitchen and heat up some noodles in a creamy sauce. It’s nothing gourmet, instant food out of a package but it’s one of my go-to comfort foods when I’m feeling lost and lonely while Katniss is gone. She’s right down the hall and I wish I could talk to her right now, but instead I stare at the same page in my book for who knows how long while I eat. I refuse to disrupt her time with Peeta. They need as much of it as they can get, and I might be projecting just a tiny amount when she emerges from her bedroom with a messed up braid and a happy blush on her cheeks.

“I’ll assume from the stench of sex and the trail of clothes when I got home today that you two are okay?” I ask as she flops onto the couch at my feet.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Katniss says happily.

Ugh being jealous of her this way is so _weird_. And I don’t have a whole lot of hard limits. I’ll try almost anything once. Almost.

“Just making sure,” I say with a shrug and set aside my book so we can talk. And the longer I watch her happily listen to me talk about work and the girls, the longer I watch her as she answers my questions about the press day tomorrow and everything going on in her life, the more reluctant I am to share my troubles with her. She’s practically beaming with happiness. Stars in the sky have nothing on the shine in her eyes and I can’t bear to see that fade. Especially not when Peeta joins us and Katniss’ joy could light fucking Vegas for a week. Double ugh.

So I keep it to myself.

* * *

 

Dinner should not be this strenuous. Maybe it wouldn’t be if I didn’t have to lie. God I’m such a hypocrite. At least I’m not the only one at this table, though.

Katniss sits on my right, holding hands with Peeta under the table, as if that does anything to hide what they are. I still can’t believe she told me they want to keep their relationship out of the press. All you have to do is watch them for ten seconds to know they’re madly in love. And why would you want to hide that? I’m not sure I could keep from buying a billboard to announce my joy if someone loved me and I loved them back the way Peeta and my sister love one another. Gah!

The situation to my left isn’t much better. Graham tells awful jokes and feigns interest in catching up with me, but really...he’s only got eyes for Savannah. Not that I want him to develop an interest in me. But I am jealous. Not of Savannah or Katniss specifically, but of their certainty. In the unwavering devotion in the eyes of the men who love them.

Then there’s the jerk off across the table from me…

God I wanna drag him into the nearest bathroom and demand that he fuck me till I can’t walk straight. I want to be bow legged and sexed beyond reason. Maybe then I could forget this stupid feeling of fullness in my chest every time our eyes meet.

Or maybe then I’d forget the pain I know is inevitable when one of us screws this up and pops the balloon. Maybe then I’d just be an idiot with a broken heart. Why did I think we could pull this off?

I don’t want him to tell me who he’s been with in the past three months. I don’t want to feel the need to tell him who I’ve been with over the past three months. Or the past week for that matter! Then I’ll have to tell him about Bentley the disaster and Troy the bakery delivery boy and Sarah the tattoo artist and humanities - undecided major, all failed attempts to fuck Ryen out of my brain. I mean Sarah was seriously good at oral but other than a need to get off, and my occasional desire to get a tattoo, we had nothing in common!

I’m a mess. A huge steaming mess and yet I’m sitting here smiling and chatting like nothing is wrong. Like I don’t wanna scream until my head explodes.

What kind of wine is this anyways? It’s making me deranged!

Fuck! He’s looking at me again. He’s barely stopped all night, even though he agreed to keep things casual for now. He even flirted with the hostess, I guess to prove to me that he doesn’t really care about whether we’re casual or serious. But the heated flush I haven’t gotten rid of since we sat down because he won’t stop staring at me makes me afraid that I might care more than I should. Double fuck! Katniss is gonna suspect something and I’m not sure I can lie to her about this. Not convincingly.

* * *

 

As soon as we make it home, I guzzle water in the kitchen and then hide in my room. Locked away, dressed in my pajamas with Buttercup curled up in my lap, I’m able to get ahold of myself. Things always seem less dire when you’re wearing rainbows on your legs and cuddling with a purring cat.

No one suspected, I tell myself. Not even Ryen. And I’m hoping I can keep it that way. He’ll get over this phase, I’m sure.

**_You looked beautiful tonight_ **

I glance down at my phone and smile at the words from Ryen. Then I stifle the smile. Casual, Prim. We’re sticking to casual. But fuck me if he didn’t look smoldering hot at dinner, hostess flirting and all. Never mind that I wanted to jab my salad fork into her jugular. That’s irrelevant.

Besides, who am I kidding? He’s always hot. And flirting. And irresistible. How dare he.

 _Oh yeah?_   
  
**_Couldn’t keep my eyes off you._ **

**_You couldn’t take your eyes off Graham._ **

Is he actually jealous? If I laughed a little too loud at Graham’s attempts at humor or focused intently on him, it’s because I was trying so hard to keep everyone there from seeing right through me.

Also trying not to crawl under the table and have my own private meal. Ryen’s cock ala mode. A very inconvenient desire to be having considering who was at the table with us.

_Maybe I think he’s hot_

_Or maybe I’m sleeping with him too._

“Ha!” I say out loud to no one. It’s almost laughable, the idea of anyone being able to turn Graham’s head away from Savannah. There seems to be some sort of Mellark gene that makes them stupidly devoted that Ryen missed out on. I feel a twinge in my gut and push it aside as Ryen answers.

**_Yeah, sure. Okay._ **

I switch to another thread and answer Janice’s question about our plans for New Years. We get caught in our conversation for a minute before we wrap it up, but I take note of Ryen’s messages when they come in.

**_Wait_ **

**_You don’t really think he’s hot and all that, do you?_ **

**_Rosie?_ **

**_You’re killing me Rosie._ **

Finally, I decide to end his man-pain.

_You’re hot too. All better?_

**_A little. What are you doing right now?_ **

_Nothing right now_

_But I was about to go to lock my door and masturbate to Graham’s photo._

I giggle at the momentary texting silence from him and my fingers fly to get the next one off before he can respond. This type of flirting is much safer with Ryen than the lines we’ve been toying with recently.

I don’t beat him to the texting punch this time.

**_I’m coming over right now. I have to save you._ **

I pinch my lips together. What is this saving nonsense? I might enjoy a good romantic movie, but I am not a damsel in distress needing to be swept off my feet in a cloud of romance. And he better remember that or we’re gonna have problems. I erase what I’ve typed and start over.

_Save me from what?_

**_Clearly you’ve never seen a pissed off, jealous Savannah. It is NOT pretty._ **

Not the answer I was expecting...

_Oh?_

**_She makes Katniss look like a lamb_ **

**_So I’m coming over now to save you from her wrath_ **

_You can’t come over. Katniss and Peeta are here right now_

My eyes shift to the wall b _e_ tween our rooms. It’s all quiet at the moment, but there’s no telling how long that will last. Still, as much fun as our little measuring contest was, I don’t think I want to engage in a vocals contest with my sister. Then how will I keep convincing myself -- convincing her -- that this is just a casual bit of sex on call.

**_Be out front in 15 minutes, I’ll pick you up._ **

_What makes you think I want to see you tonight?_

I hold my breath and watch the dots until his answer pops up:

**_Because Katniss and Peeta are there right now, and they’re nauseating._ **

_What’s taking you so long?_

I’m on my feet and grinning like a fool as I toss aside my pajamas and change into jeans and a sweater, not bothering with a bra beneath the bulky garment, relying on a lace trimmed camisole to preserve some kind of warmth and modesty. I tug on my boots and coat then slip down the hall. I pause outside Katniss’ door and listen for any telltale signs. When I don’t hear anything, I take a risk and knock lightly.

“Prim?” It’s Peeta who answers and I crack open the door enough to poke my head in. The room is pitch dark.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Is Katniss asleep?”

“Dead to the world,” Peeta says. My eyes are adjusting to the gloom and I can just make out the lumpy shape of the two of them in her bed.

“Okay. I’m gonna go meet up with a friend for a bit. Might stay the night. Can you tell Katniss in the morning?”

“Sure,” he says. Katniss pops up then, grunting and then mumbling. I can’t catch all the words. Just something about walking and dinner. As quick as she jumped up, she drops her head and turns over, muttering something else to Peeta’s chest as she wriggles closer to him. He tugs the blankets back around her and rubs his hand up and down her arm.

“Alright, thanks!” I say and shut the door.

The cold nips at me while I wait, but Ryen’s there in ten minutes instead of fifteen. The car is barely stopped before I slide into the seat and smile at him.

“Where to, Miss?” he asks and I laugh, shaking my head.

“You did not just quote _Titanic_ to me.”

“Worth a shot,” he says with a shrug and drives.

He hasn’t changed since dinner, which makes me feel underdressed. That’s okay, because I slide my hand up his thigh and I can tell from the rasp in his voice and the way he shifts in his seat that it won’t be long before we’re both equally undressed. It’s not that far to his hotel, thankfully, because keeping up with conversation is getting tedious.

I behave myself as we walk through the lobby, although I use the family of five that climbs onto the elevator with us as an excuse to lean back against him. I’m just making more room. Then I stare at the mirrored ceiling and enjoy his sharp intake of breath as I slowly rub my ass over his crotch, press into him to test how hard he is.

This is what we were meant to be, I remind myself as he slides his key card into the door and I manage to control my hands enough to not grope him in the hallway.

“So I was thinking we could watch a movie, have a quiet night--”

My lips on his and my hands tearing at his coat stop those words before he can suggest something as asinine as cuddling.

“Not tonight, Ryen,” I whine and push him through the room, down onto the bed, flinging aside my coat as I climb on top of him and roll my hips over his. “I need you to fuck me tonight.”

“Rosie,” he groans, but shifts us up the bed so his head rests on the pillows. Our mouths move together in frantic kisses and I keep humping him, building and building my need to the point where I’m midless and sometimes heartless. His hands curve over my ass and guide my hips for a second before they slide beneath my sweater and he groans in my mouth as he squeezes my breasts in his warm palms.

“See, Ryen. I came to play tonight,” I tease and kiss him. It’s aggressive and deep, but something’s off. Ryen kisses me back, but I feel like I’m the only one fully in the moment. Even when he pushes me upright to get my sweater and cami up over my head and drops them on the floor. Even as I remain upright, grinding on him as he stares with hazy eyes at my body and his fingers pluck open my jeans. He feels miles away.

Confused, I double my efforts, standing and shimmying, turning for him to feast his eyes on me as I strip off my boots, my jeans, my thermal tights beneath until he’s rubbing his cock over his slacks and eyeing me with lust filled eyes and kiss swollen lips while I climb back on top.

I slide each shirt button free and kiss each inch of skin revealed to me. He’s breathing heavy but not moaning and not talking. I lick over his chest and help him out of it then I unfasten his pants, wiggling my lace covered ass in the air and wondering if he’s finally gotten bored with me.

At my urging, he lifts his hips enough for me to tug his pants and boxers down his hips. I waste no time gripping his cock and licking up his length, searching his eyes for some sign. He throbs in my hand and his eyes are glued to my lips as I circle the head then moan as I take him in my mouth.

“Rosie, baby please,” he says, the soft words spurring me to suck faster as he gathers my hair in one hand to hold it out of my way, but he doesn’t push on my head or thrust into my mouth. All I get are soft groans at irregular intervals and a sore jaw as I suck and bob and suck some more. Nothing I’m doing is working and when I finally sit up and wipe my own drool from my mouth, Ryen is slow to open his eyes and look at me. Even then, it feels like he’s looking through me.

“Where are you, Ryen?” I ask, unable to keep the hurt from my voice. “You’re not here with me.”

“Shit,” he mutters and pushes me off of him. He tugs his pants back up as he stands and zips them as he walks across the room, absentmindedly patting Waffles where he’s curled up on the couch. I find my sweater and pull the camisole free. Shame like I’ve never felt before stains my cheeks and body with a heated flush as I pull the shirt back on. It provides no form of real coverage whatsoever.

“Rosie, please don’t go,” he says and I glance over at him pouring a drink and then running a hand through his hair.

“Why shouldn’t I? I didn’t mind being a side piece or a regular booty call. I asked nothing of you, but you have never made me feel cheap until tonight.”

“I know. I can see that. Just don’t go yet?” he pleads, something wild and lost in his eyes that pulls at my heartstrings. I cross my arms and my ankles pull together. God, I’ve never felt so raw and exposed as I do right now. Not even that time Bentley fucked me from behind with my hands and breasts pushed against his apartment window, overlooking a busy street, his hand on my throat holding me in a crazy backbend.

“I don’t know what’s going on here anymore. First that stunt with Katniss on Skype, then those STI tests, now whatever this is.”

“I just can’t...don’t want to be alone tonight,” he says and sighs. “At least let me make you a drink before I take you home?”

I think about his offer and stare at the hard ridges of his shoulder muscles as he turns to finish fixing the drink. He’s so tense and I can’t place why. I’m missing a piece of this puzzle, so I accept the drink and keep my eyes on his as I take my first sip and lick my lips.

“Is it ‘can’t be’ or ‘don’t want to be’?”

Ryen shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at the curtain covered window, like he’ll find answers in the draped fabric.

“Maybe it’s ‘shouldn’t be,’” he murmurs and turns side to side a few times before he seems to find some sort of anger that ignites in his eyes and his voice.

“Those tests...I meant them as a kind of promise, Rosie. To you, to myself. I’ve fucked my way through life, across three continents and the truth is...I’m done with that.”

I hold onto the glass, unable to look away from him or take another drink. There’s no way I could swallow with my throat constricted like this.

“And maybe I wanted Katniss to know so there was someone to protect you from me. To hold me accountable if I fuck this up. I’m not dumb enough to think that you could ever believe me or trust me completely. You’ve got no reason to. I get that, okay? I just thought maybe if I could show you, one step at a time, then maybe we could see where this goes.”

“See where what goes?” I ask. “Be specific.”

“Us,” he says with an exasperated wave of his hand. “I don’t want this, tonight, to be just another booty call in your head. I don’t want any of the times we’ve been together to fall into that category.”

I blink and set aside the glass, the drink inside barely touched.

“That’s why I thought maybe we could just watch a movie or something. Spend time together without trying to fuck each other’s brains out for once.”

“I thought you enjoyed fucking my brains out,” I remind him and he grins.

“Like nothing else, Rosie.” My stomach does cartwheels as he steps closer and holds both my hands in his. “Except that there are other things I want to do with you, too. I got a taste of it when we rescued Waffles and then when I adopted him. Fixing breakfast in your apartment and studying with you. All the nights I’ve slept beside you and all the mornings I’ve woken without you, wishing you were there. Now I want more. I don’t know what that looks like. I’ve got no guide lines to show me which way to turn or what to do. I’m probably gonna screw it up a million times, but I’m gonna keep trying until you can’t forgive me anymore.”

There’s something so earnest in his eyes when he lifts my hands to kiss my knuckles. It makes my pulse pound in my ears and my chest swell with unbearable fullness again.

“I guess we could try a quiet night,” I murmur.

So that’s how we wind up curled up on the couch under a blanket, his fingers toying with my hair as we watch Rose search desperately for Jack in waist high water, Waffles sleeping peacefully on top of my feet. I fall asleep sometime after the ship goes down but before the infamous door incident. Ryen moving me to the bed as the credits roll is what wakes me. I watch him strip off his pants and slip into bed beside me in a plain white t-shirt and his boxers. I cuddle closer for his heat, shivering as it envelops me.

“Sorry I woke you,” he whispers and I shake my head. His eyes appear darker in the lamplight.

“It’s fine,” I say and yawn. His fingers trail up and down my bare leg, sending ribbons of heat up to my core. “Ryen?”

He hums in answer and I tilt my head on the pillow to look at him.

“That’s not what was really bothering you tonight, was it?”

He stares at me and I can see the fight in his eyes. And the answer. If he wants more, then he has to give more.

“No, it was bothering me. It’s just not _all_ of what was bothering me.”

I turn onto my side and settle in to listen. “Tell me?”

“Did you ever have someone in your life make you feel small? Or...insignificant? Like you can never do enough to please them? Even though they’re the one person on this planet who should love you unconditionally?”

I drop my gaze to his throat and don’t see the bobbing of his adam's apple as he swallows. No, I see a lavender and white bedroom. An endless washed out blue sky. I can smell the cow manure and hear the condescending tones whispering through air ducts and thin walls. The sad smiles and “poor dears” that meant nothing. Nothing real.

“Yes.”

He lifts his head and I look up at him with moisture forming in my eyes. I roll them to hide the pain and try for a smile because I can see on his face that it’s not the answer he was expecting. I sniffle and shake my head.

“Well, maybe not the one person on the planet who should’ve loved me part. I’ve always had Haymitch and Katniss. Before that, Mom and Dad. But when we lived in Michigan with our aunt who looked just like our mother in so many ways…” I trail off and return my eyes to his. “We were talking about you.”

“Well now I want to know about you,” he says and my fingers curl into his shirt as he presses a soft kiss to my temple. It shouldn’t persuade me to keep talking, but it does.

“There’s a reason Haymitch was able to get us away from our mother’s family without too much of a fight, even though we’re not really related to him. Part of it was his ties to the tribe. There are laws that are meant to protect kids like us. Like Katniss and I. But they...Ryen the first winter we were there they sold her skis and didn’t tell her about it. Our uncle...I don’t think he ever touched her but the way he looked at her was...unsettling. She’d never tell me if he had touched her anyways and now I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Jesus,” Ryen breathes and I have to swallow before I can keep going.

“And the way they treated me…”

“What? What did they do to you?”

“They were racist,” I whisper and it’s almost cleansing to say it out loud. “Katniss dealt with that more than I did. It was more open, direct, obvious with her, but with me it was still there. It’s hard to explain. They treated me differently from Katniss, better in many ways, but it was like everything I did that they saw as a slip into “my other nature” as our cousin once called it, made me a disappointment somehow. It wasn’t so bad at first, but the longer we stayed there, the harder it was to convince myself that everything was just fine. They said I had a freakish connection with animals, Uncle Dave called me heathen one night and told me I shouldn’t run wild like my sister, who never did anything truly wrong while we lived there, and all I wanted to do was dance in the rain that night, like I used to sometimes do with Mom.

“Both of us were dying a little more each day we were there.”

I keep talking, telling him what I can remember about calling Haymitch and the arrival of social workers and lawyers who essentially saved the day. Ryen caresses my hair and listens to it all. When I finish and finally find the courage to look up at him, he kisses me.

This time I can feel his heart beating when I touch his neck. I can feel his fervor in the swipes of his tongue against mine. I can feel something profound in the warmth of his hand holding me close. And when he lifts his head, I see my own pain reflected back in his blue eyes.

“Who did it to you?” I ask and that’s when his gaze drops and I can almost see him wilting in front of me. A scared little boy as he answers me.

“Mom.”

I blink and shake my head, thinking suddenly of some of the things Katniss told me about what Mrs. Mellark said and did to her and Peeta. I scold myself for never really considering she might have done something similar to her other sons. To Ryen.

“Wait...like she did to Katniss and Peeta?”

“Not exactly,” he says and toys with the strap of my camisole. “It’s kind of like what you just told me. Expectations I could never live up to. Most of the time, we thought what she was doing with Peeta after the accident was tough love. Motivating him to work harder, like she always did with me. Pushing him to heal and get back to living his life. When Dad heard her calling him names, outright berating him...well then it became a little difficult to excuse what she was doing as her instincts as a coach seeping into how she handled his recovery. With Peeta, it became obvious. With me it was easier to excuse it. You know, she was my coach for years?”

He pauses to swallow and wait for my nod to let him know I remember that.

“I never thought to really question the things she said to me or the way she made me feel in all that time I trained with her. Not until everything came out with how she was treating Peeta. All those years, Graham and Dad always insisted she was trying to make sure I was the best I could be. That I was just hot headed and that’s why I butt heads with her so often. But the truth is...anger and defiance were the only way to keep from feeling like I was the fuck-up disappointment she wished she’d never had. It never mattered how good I did on the slopes, it was never good enough for her.

“And really, I don’t think she wanted any of us. She acted like she did on special occasions. You know, holidays, birthdays, family get-togethers, in public, I think because she had to. She was expected to be the loving mother. Maybe she even thought she was. But sometimes it felt like she resented us for keeping her from competing again. Graham just got lucky by picking a sport she wasn’t all that good at so he dealt more with Gramps than her. Then he knocked up Savannah and moved away to live in their ivory and estrogen tower.”

I can’t help the giggle that bubbles free and he smiles for a second before it fades. He sighs and rolls away from me, bracing one foot on the bed, bending up his knee as he covers his face with his hands. “I saw her today.”

“You what?” I ask. It takes a lot not to screech at him.

“She was there. At the press junket, all dressed up to interview some of the downhill skiers. I’ve been trying not to let her get to me, but she did. Fuck did she get to me. She always could.”

“What did she say?” I prompt when he doesn’t continue.

“Oh she reminded me that she was always against me switching to freestyle, thought it was a waste of talent. That I could never commit to anything anyways and that I’ll always be a sloppy second because of it.” I freeze and stare at him wide eyed as he removes his hands from his face. “No. Rosie, no that’s not why--”

“But it is.”

“No! It’s not!” he insists as he sits up. “Did you look at those tests? Did you see how far back they went? I gave those to you before I saw her!”

“They went back three months,” I say and pause as I think about that. And about what happened three months ago. New Zealand. Phone sex. _I have no idea what I’m doing, Rosie._ And about what’s happened since then. His pleas to see more of me, words that bordered on romantic and loving. The way he walked naked and shameless into Katniss’ field of view and then seemed happy that she knew about us. _You’re worth every bit of it._

“You don’t think I just carry those tests around like my driver’s license, do you?”

“Maybe like your passport,” I say feebly and he chuckles as I squirm in the sheets. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Because I didn’t think you wanted to hear it. I was a coward. It was easier to hide behind hints. Seeing Mom again didn’t make me suddenly want to be serious with you Rosie, but she did remind me that maybe I’ve been going about it the wrong way. Guess that’s what coaches sometimes do, huh?”

“She was a shitty coach and a shitty mother if she made you feel small and unloved,” I say and tug him back into my arms.  And because I sense that there’s more he needs to get off his chest, I settle in for a long chat. “Tell me more.”

He talks. Talks until his voice is hoarse and I’ve just about decided that murder sounds like a viable option.

“At least she didn’t see Peeta, too. That would’ve been a fucking disaster,” he murmurs around a yawn. “You should’ve seen her face when I told her he was with Katniss and competing again.”

We fall asleep to whispers in the night, wrapped around one another. I only know that I fell asleep because I wake up with his warm breath on my neck. Lips feathering over my skin.

I roll onto my back and welcome his kisses. They pull me from sleep and I don’t hold back my ragged moans as I weave my fingers through his hair to hold him close. He cradles my head in his hand and murmurs my name between kisses. And when he shifts to hover over me and I’m surrounded with heat as he kisses down my neck, I give up on hiding too.

“Ryen? Can we still have sex even though it’s not a real booty call?” I whimper and his relieved laugh warms my shoulder before he tugs down my sweater so he can suckle my skin there.

“Anything you want, Rosie.”

I peel away his clothes and he kisses mine off my body. We roll and shift beneath the covers and whisper softly to find out what the other wants. I lay there and sigh as he tongues my pussy to get me sopping wet. He holds me tight as he slides into me from behind and we move together, laying on our sides. He slips an arm beneath my neck and joins our right hand fingers. I grip his hip and beg him for more when it becomes unbearable to be without. It feels deep and endless somehow and I’m not convinced I’m fully awake when I release his hip and bend my arm back to thread my fingers through his hair.

There’s something so intimate about the way his breath rolls down my spine as he spoons me and loves me at the same time. Something that says we could wake up like this. Or fall asleep like this.

And I’m smiling when his hand splays then dips to work my clit. I gasp out his name as I come, soft and lovely, taking him with me. His lips caress my name and his pleas into my neck. He thrusts a few times after, his body shuddering behind me and groans rolling off his tongue. I turn my head and our mouths find one another in the dark. A slow, sensual kiss that turns my brain to mush and honestly, if that sex hadn’t already melted me into a puddle, this kiss certainly would. Any distance I felt last night has been banished and I’m smiling stupidly when he lifts his head to nuzzle my nose.

“God, Rosie. That was…”

“Amazing,” I whisper and pull his arm up to wrap around me. I’m asleep before he can say another word and when I wake up again with the clock telling me that it’s morning, I can’t help myself. I roll over and slide beneath the covers to take his cock into my mouth, sucking and savoring his sleepy moans as he hardens between my lips, and smiling up at him when he tosses aside the covers, his fingers corralling my wild hair.

“Fuck Rosie. Waking up alone is gonna be awful after waking up to this.”

I shush him and go back to blowing him, getting him close before shifting again to get a condom on him. As soon as I’m seated on him for a hard ride, he rolls me onto my side and we thrust and writhe curled together, face to face, instead. It feels incredible and I hold him close as he fills the condom and buries his face in my neck. I toy with his hair and don’t mention that I’m still hanging off the edge, but off course Ryen knows and slides down my body to suck on my clit and moan about how good I taste, even as he peels off the used condom.

“So fucking delicious,” he says and I cling to the sheets as I get closer to burning alive and gasp for air.

“That’s latex, not me,” I whisper and he shakes his head.

“It’s both. Which is the taste of me fucking you,” he says. Then there are no words as he tongue fucks me through a body bending orgasm. I stuff a pillow in my mouth to stifle the sounds I’m making as he keeps going, making me come again with unbearable heat and a prickling in my toes. He shoves aside the pillow and feasts on my neck and shoulders, his fingers now sliding through my folds.

“You’re fucking gushing for me, Rosie. What would that feel like on my cock?”

I must be possessed. That’s the only reason to explain why I grope at him to make sure he’s recovered, smiling when I find him rock hard again. I grip his cock and guide him to me, muttering that my last test was clean and I always use condoms and I’ve got an IUD. He hesitates for a second but then plunges into me, bare cocked.

“Fucking hell. Oh shit, Rosie.” He pauses and gasps for air. I trace the line of his jaw and watch his chest heave.

“I’ve never done this without a condom,” he admits and I blink, a little stunned. Then he starts moving, slow at first, but the moaning sounds he makes are insane. His pace builds and he bends my knees up so he can reach deeper. I’m screaming as he thrusts and plucks a third release from me and then he’s cursing and bucking madly, groaning about heaven and kissing me and swearing as I claw at his arms, breathless with this burgeoning fullness in my chest and my body cresting then ebbing in a strange sustained orgasm.

He pulls out and I lay there, watching him stroke himself empty onto my belly, the sounds of his strokes wet and noisy with his cock still covered in me. He sits back on his haunches when he’s done, both of us panting and flushed, unable to look away from one another. Slowly, he manages to lay next to me and I smile at him.

“Breakfast?” I ask and he laughs.

“I’m not up for cooking after that. Besides, I don’t have a kitchen here.”

“Hmmm...I know a place that serves really good omelets right around the corner,” I tell him and he sits up just enough to kiss me.

“Omelets it is.”

All through breakfast, he doesn’t let go of my hand and it isn't until I’m back in my apartment and Katniss has disappeared into the mountains after taking Peeta to the airport that I realize we never really defined anything or put labels on it. So what exactly are we now? Certainly not fuck buddies. And definitely not a secret. So when Troy the bakery boy texts me to see what I’m doing next weekend, I don’t hesitate to answer.

_I’m seeing someone, and it’s getting serious._

Guess I better ask Ryen to be very specific again.


	7. Room Service

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're actually going in order now! Okay so this chapter takes place in conjunction with Chapter 22 of Outside Chance. The events of that chapter are mentioned here, but in case you've forgotten, Katniss is recovering from strep throat and Peeta shows up to surprise her in Germany. Meanwhile...
> 
> Also a warning, this chapter turned out kind of raunchy. Okay, you've been warned.

“Do you need anything else?” I ask softly and Katniss shakes her head.

“Sorry,” she croaks and I shush her as I plug in her phone and set it on the table next to her bed.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Spending all your time looking after me.”

“Hey remember that week in New Mexico, when Haymitch took me to that diner because he decided he needed a burger and you were working late?” She moans and shakes her head again as I laugh. “I’ll take dealing with strep throat any day over food poisoning.”

“Don’t remind me of that,” she groans and her face turns a little green. Yikes. Maybe not a good idea to remind her of the vomit and other things fest of that week. She’s a lot more squeamish than I am.

I straighten her covers and check her temperature one more time. At least it’s down out of “get thee to an emergency room now” heights.

“Alright, we’ll never speak of it again,” I say and urge her to get some sleep before her next dose of medicine. This time she nods and wriggles deeper under her blankets.

“Thanks, Duck.”

“Anytime.” I whisper because I’m pretty sure she’s already asleep. She needs it.

I slip from her room and carefully shut the door so I don’t disturb her. I tiptoe down the hall to my room so I can call Haymitch back and let him know how she’s doing. He’s been avoiding the apartment, and I really can’t blame him. It’s bad enough that Katniss got sick, but she’ll need him to be healthy and ready to travel as soon as she’s feeling better.

I’ve got text tones going off in my ear as I assure Haymitch that I’m getting fresh air when I can and washing my hands and yes, I already bought myself a new toothbrush. He’s just concerned.

When I finally get off the phone with Haymitch, I check the text messages. Some of them are from Ryen, letting me know he hasn’t gotten sick yet and asking how Katniss and I are faring. Others are from Janice and Heather asking about meeting up to kick off the semester. I answer them all and then move the laundry, get some soup warming up on the stove and wipe down every potential germ bearing surface in the bathroom.

By the time I’ve got Katniss fed, medicated, and back asleep, I flop on the couch and wind up falling asleep. I wake in the middle of the night with itchy eyes, a missed call from Ryen, and my bra twisted horribly. I fight with the damn thing as I trudge to bed, but once I’m in pajamas and under the covers, I’m wide awake.

“Curses,” I mutter and turn on the lamp to read until I fall asleep. I think about calling Ryen back, but I don’t want to bother him. Besides, he’s already been calling and texting more often since our omelet breakfast. Or maybe it just seems that way because I’ve been stretched so thin lately, or because I still haven’t adjusted to the idea of us not being casual.

My days blend together, long and full. Katniss gradually gets a little better, but I can see my own concerns reflected in Haymitch's eyes when he arrives so I can  take them to the airport. We get her settled in the car and her head lolls to the side.

“How’s she going to compete, Haymitch?” I ask. “She doesn’t have a fever and she’s not contagious, but she can barely stay awake for more than a few hours.”

“Don’t know. We’ll figure something out,” he tries to reassure me with words and a hug at the curb. I wave as they walk slowly inside the airport and then head back home to air out the apartment and wash everything she touched.

I manage to drag myself through the next few days and Haymitch keeps me posted on how she’s doing. Classes are kicking my ass already and the semester has barely started. Of course, I didn’t start it refreshed like I usually do. I was already dragging before the first syllabus landed in front of me. It’s building up on me and I plan a weekend girls’ night with my friends in the hopes that it’ll relieve some of the stress. With everything that happened after the press day, I haven’t been able to spend any real time with them since around Christmas. Just bits between classes here and there.

I’m arranging the food and waiting for their arrival when my phone chimes. I glance at it once and then again to stare at the message from Haymitch.

_She’s struggling. Worse than I expected._

More comes in before I can answer.

_Called in some backup. Cupcake’s on his way to meet us in Germany._

_Hopefully that helps._

A content warmth washes over me. Of course, Peeta would rush to Katniss’ side as soon as he found out she was floundering. Ugh. They really are nauseating sometimes. I snatch up the phone and text Haymitch back.

**_That’s great! She’s going to be so happy to see him!_ **

_I hope so._

**_Does she know he’s coming?_ **

_Not yet._

**_Just make sure she’s had a shower and combed her hair before he gets there._ **

_I got this._

**_I’m only thinking of her hygiene needs, Old Man._ **

I’ve barely finished my conversation with Haymitch and am dealing with the jealousy over how sweet Peeta is when my phone rings and Ryen’s face fills the screen.

“Hey gorgeous,” Ryen says when I answer and I smile weakly.

“Hey handsome.”

“You sound like you could use a break,” he says.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing today. The girls are coming over for movies and girl talk tonight.”

“Do I count as worthy of girl talk?” I laugh at this.

“Probably more than you’d like.”

“Eh. I’m used to being the topic of gossip. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

That makes me pause for a moment. I mean, he’s right. He lives his life in the public eye. Am I ready to be a part of that?

We’ve redefined the lines of what we are, both of us attempting to be faithful. No random hookups, no meaningless sex, no playing games with each other’s hearts. But is that going to be enough? I’ve never been paparazzi fodder before in my life, but if I’m with Ryen, it’s probably inevitable.

I shake my head and ask him what he’s got coming up this week.

“Skiing my ass off. Hey, don’t change the subject. We were talking about how you need a break.”

“Girls’ night?”

“No I mean a real break. You just spent close to a week playing nursemaid to Katniss, you’ve got school and work.”

“You’re exhausting me just listing it all,” I say and he chuckles.

“Lucky for you, you also have a stunning boyfriend who wants to give you the world.”

“I don’t need the world, Ryen,” I say and he pauses for a moment.

“How about a vacation?”

“I still haven’t made up my mind about Italy,” I tell him. We’ve changed all the rules since that night when he told me about his mother, and it feels like so much so fast right now.

“I’m not talking about Italy. That’s still two months away. I’m talking about you and four of your closest friends kicking back on a beach somewhere and drinking mai tais on me.”

“Are you going to be there?” I ask hopefully.

“Can’t. Best bet is this long weekend you’ve got coming up but I’ll be in Switzerland.”

“No,” I say firmly and he argues right away.

“Hear me out, Rosie!”

“Too much, Ryen.”

“Frequent flyer miles! I get a better rate if you go as a group!”

“You’re lying.”

“I expect pictures of you in that blue bikini to keep me warm.”

“Now you’re a lecherous ass.”

“That’s what _you_ like about _me_ , Rosie. I make your toes curl in all the best possible ways.”

Silence stretches as I think. I refused Christmas presents because I knew I couldn’t afford a gift worthy of his expectations. I balked at the invite to Italy because it felt like too much for a casual relationship. But he just dropped the word “boyfriend” like it’s a feather. And I didn’t even flinch. Boyfriends do things like this for their girlfriends if they can, right?

“Where were you thinking of sending me?”

“Bora Bora? Tahiti? Fiji? Where do you want to go, Rosie?”

“Waaaay too much! Besides, I don’t know if all the girls have passports.”

“Okay, I can make it USA. Aha! Carmel. California. No passport needed. Plus it’s closer, less travel time means more beach time.”

“Ryen—“

“Ask the girls about it tonight. I won’t buy a thing until you give me the okay.”

I hear their laughter before they knock. My pride and my desires are at war with one another and it’s not a fight anyone is going to win tonight.

“I have to go, Ryen.”

“Alright, have fun. And ask them about it. Please?”

I promise him to ask them, but really I have no plans to do any such thing. I can’t accept a vacation like this from him. It’s one thing for him to fly me to Italy to be there for one of his competitions, but to have him fork over money to send me and four of my friends to relax on a beach while he’s competing? It rubs me the wrong way.

I answer the door and the girls enter in a burst of cold and smiles. They settle right in, skimming through Netflix and chowing down. Talk flows free and easy, and I tuck my legs under me to listen. Eventually, the menu goes dark on the TV. Clearly no one feels like watching a movie. We’ve all got grievances to air and are content to listen and talk. I need it, since I wound up skipping the New Years bash we all planned on going to so I could take care of Katniss. School started back up shortly after she left and we’ve all been busy since.

Laura’s dealing with a skeevy coworker. Heather’s just started on an anti-anxiety med and she’s still deciding if it’s worth the side effects. Janice is stressed about her brother messing up his marriage.

“I like his wife more than I like him! He can’t divorce her!”

Then there’s me. My problems seem so miniscule compared to theirs and I feel almost guilty about my choice to turn down Ryen’s offer without even asking the girls about it. They all sound like they could use the break. The wine is passed around and glass after glass consumed as the girls unload and gradually relax.

“What about you, Prim?” Heather asks and the girls all focus on me. “You’ve been really quiet tonight.”

“Just worn out after the past few weeks. Not nearly as bad as my sister, though.”

“How’s Katniss doing?” Laura asks.

“Not so great. That bout of strep really took it out of her. But hopefully she’ll be feeling better soon. Peeta’s flying to Germany to see her.” I’m greeted by a chorus of cooing before I remember that I’m supposed to be keeping their relationship secret.

“Awwwww!”

“That’s so sweet!”

Then again, the girls have known about Katniss and Peeta since November…and now I’m weirdly jealous of my sister again. They move on quickly, though, and I keep my silence.

Heather resumes scrolling through the movie selections, complaining that nothing seems appealing. Laura makes a few cheerful suggestions. Janice is distracted by something on her phone. Her eyes jump up and focus on me and I shrug, trying to decipher the look she’s giving me.

“You totally diverted!”

“What?” I ask and Heather pauses her search to look back at me.

“Heather asked how you’re doing and you somehow made it about Katniss.”

“I did not,” I say and Laura joins Janice in her prying.

“You totally did. What are you hiding, Primmy?”

Ugh. Sometimes I hate my friends. They can see straight through so many of my lies.

“Is it Troy the bakery delivery guy?”

“No. I’m not seeing him anymore.”

“Why not?” Heather asks.

“I’ve been really busy with work and school,” I say with a shrug.

Janice smirks at me. “Then it must be Ryen Mellark. Trouble with Mr. Casual?”

“Why does it have to be about a guy?”

“Because it is, isn’t it?” Laura asks gently.

And the thing is, I’m bursting with the need to talk to someone about what’s going on with me and Ryen. I can’t talk to Katniss about it. She’ll freak. Haymitch will be Haymitch, and that leaves my friends.

“I’m gonna need more wine for this,” I say with a groan and hold out my glass for Laura to refill. She pours with a grin and Heather sets aside the remote to focus on me. I gulp for a moment before dropping the bomb.

“It’s not casual anymore.”

“What?”

“Since when?” They hurl questions at me and it’s Janice who reigns the other two in.

“Hold on! Let her speak.”

“Speak!” Heather says and grabs a nearby bowl of popcorn. Nice to know my love life is good entertainment.

I tell them about him wanting to see more of me and his naked stunt on Skype with Katniss. “We’re going to need more details,” Janice says to that. I drink and talk about him helping me study -- leaving out the more graphic bits -- and tell them some of the sweeter things he’s said. I’m getting dizzy and start scarfing down crackers and cucumbers in yogurt and dill dip, uncaring how unladylike I look as the dam breaks and all my fears flood out over my riveted friends. I give them as much as I can about what happened after the press day without revealing too much about Ryen personally. This unloading is about airing my fears, not breaking his confidence in me.

“And now he wants to send me and four friends on a weekend vacation!” I finish to stunned silence.

“Holy shit,” Janice whispers. Laura wraps her arms around me and I sob once before stifling it.

“Sounds like Ryen’s your sugar daddy,” Heather says and Janice glares at her. “What? It’s the truth.”

“I think it’s sweet. He’s trying to take care of you even when he can’t be here,” Laura suggests.

“Or buy her affection,” Heather says.

“The danger of dating a player. I never know which way is up or if I can believe him. Or trust him. Or myself, for that matter,” I say miserably. Let’s face it, I haven’t exactly been the picture of fidelity.

“Okay. We can figure this out,” Janice says and stands with a fire in her eyes. “Where’s your laptop, Prim?”

“My room,” I say, confused as Janice disappears. “What’s she want my laptop for?”

Laura shrugs but we don’t have to wait long. Janice returns and sits on the floor, setting the laptop up as Heather crams onto the couch with me and Laura.

“Before I do this,” Janice says and glares over her shoulder at us. “You cannot make fun of me, okay? I am about to share some of my deepest secrets with you all.”

“Okay?” I say, hesitant to agree until I know what she’s talking about.

“Spill the secrets,” Laura urges and we all lean in as Janice sighs and types a url into the bar. “Tumblr?”

“Shut it,” Janice says as the website loads. There’s a banner across the top, a gif of Ryen skiing over a berm, flipping off of it and landing perfectly. It repeats on an endless loop. On the left side, there’s a picture of him in a robe, hanging open to reveal his bare chest. Bedroom eyes and his hair all wild and messed up. Underneath the picture are various links with titles like _Competitions_ , _Interviews_ , _News,_ _Fan Pics,_ and the more ominous _Heart Throb_. Then there’s a patchwork of pictures and text posts, questions and answers like a freaking advice column. It looks so organized, but it’s clearly the work of a dedicated fan.

“Oh. My. God,” Heather mumbles and Janice throws a pillow at her.

“No judgment, nerd! Or I’ll tell them all about your Avengers fanfiction habit!”

I’m too busy staring and unable to form words to process this new information about Heather. I gape like a fish as Janice cracks her knuckles.

“Okay. This is obviously not one hundred percent accurate. She dabbles in a lot of theories that we’ll just ignore for now, but if there’s a picture or Tweet or someone sneezes in his presence, literally anything about Ryen Mellark, it winds up on Carrie’s website.”

“Who the fuck is Carrie?”

“Better question to ask is ‘where the fuck is Carrie’ since I’ve never actually met her and I would like to point out that I haven’t been to this website since you told us that you and Ryen actually had a thing going on back in November. It felt weird. Like I was stalking my friend’s boyfriend or something. Anyways! Carrie lives in Wisconsin somewhere, and this is her blog.”

“We’re spying on him?” I ask. It feels so wrong. Like I don’t trust him or something. But really, isn’t that the crux of the problem? I want to trust him, so badly. He opened up to me and that should be enough, but it’s not. Now that we’ve changed the rules, I’m second guessing everything sweet or kind that he’s ever done for me, wondering what could possibly make me so special out of all the girls he’s been with that will make him faithful to me. It was easier to blow all of that sweetness off as Ryen being Ryen when I thought all he wanted was to get in my pants.

This website though -- seeing his numerous affairs dated and collated -- could make it worse. Or maybe better.

The dangers of dating a player indeed.

“Cyber stalking,” Heather says and Janice glowers at her again. “I write Clintasha fanfiction!” We all stare at her and she smiles in triumph. “Really smutty Clintasha fanfiction. There. My secret’s out. Now you have nothing to hold over my head.”

“No but you are gonna have to explain what a Clintasha is,” I tease and Heather groans while Laura laughs.

“Focus, girls!”

“To business,” Janice says. “We’ll start with the ones under _Heart Throb_ because those will be about his love life. What would you like to know about Ryen Mellark’s whereabouts and romantic interests?”

“More wine first,” I say desperately and chug a few gulps before plunging down the rabbit hole. “June 2017. Start there.”

“Why there?” Heather asks as Janice clicks a few links.

“Because that’s when Katniss and I went to Skadi. That was the first time Ryen and I hooked up.”

“That’s six months. This may take awhile then. Adeline Montgomery Kensie, action movie starlet,” Janice says and I stare at the picture of Ryen with a stunning actress on a red carpet. A movie premier? Oh god, I feel like a cow in a pasture compared to her. Then I see the date next to it and nod, trying to get rid of this stone in my stomach.

“That’s before. We still hadn’t seen each other in ten years when that picture was taken.”

Janice clicks a button, taking us to the next post. “Mystery Brunette the second 2k17, Salt Lake City. July 14th. They were seen leaving a nightclub together and then...drinking coffee at a Starbucks the next morning.”

My stomach coils in fury and jealousy and I have to remind myself we had a no strings and no questions agreement at that time. I remind the girls of that, too. Laura nods and squeezes my arm. It actually makes me feel better as Janice proceeds to a picture of Ryen with another girl sitting on his lap at a bar or maybe a club.

“Mystery Brunette the third 2k17, Las Vegas. July 20th. Sheesh he likes brunettes, I guess.” Laura smacks her and I hold tight to my wine glass.

“Sheila Patterson, freestyle skier, August 5th.”

Yep. This was a horrendous idea. My face and hands go numb and Janice looks back at me with sympathy in her eyes.

“But it’s just a picture they both posted to their own Instagram accounts. They’re training together in it. So that doesn’t mean anything happened.”

I nod and gulp more wine and onward we go. “Okay, these are some of the crazy theory posts I was talking about,” Janice says as she zooms through a few posts that are the question and answer style.

“What do they say?” I ask, as casually as possible. Janice wavers but Heather comes through.

“They’re whining that if he gets involved with someone on the ski team, she’ll be with him all the time and maybe it’ll turn serious.”

“Not helping, Heather,” Laura says.

“They also said he hasn’t gotten serious with any of the other US skiers he’s been with!”

Heather adds as I groan and drink more wine. I’d forgotten the likelihood that Ryen has slept with as many of his teammates as possible. Now going to Italy sounds like an even worse idea than cyber stalking him.

“No look! It’s fine, see! Here’s a theory busted post. Sheila has a steady girlfriend!”

“She could be bi or pan,” Heather says.

“Next!” I yell and Janice complies.

“Dog, August 2017...Oh! I remember when this happened! Okay we can skip the next like forty posts. They’re all ovary explosions and attempts to guess why he would name his dog ‘Waffles.’”

“Because Waffles devoured half the waffle bar at Skadi,” I say and they all stare at me. The first smile since we started this slips onto my face and Laura nudges me until I tell them the whole story about us rescuing Waffles together and how Ryen adopted him.

“That is the cutest story EVER! Sounds like the start to a great fanfic,” Heather says and Janice rolls her eyes.

“See? You know him better than any of these love crazy fangirls,” Laura reassures me.

“I’m not worried about the love crazy fangirls. I’m worried about the Sheila’s and Adeline’s and Mystery Brunette the second and the third which means there’s a mystery brunette the first 2k17, remember?” I remind them and then something occurs to me as I stare at the picture Ryen posted of himself with Waffles that Carrie then posted to her blog.

What if Waffles and the things he shared with me after the press day are things he’s shared with _only_ me? I’ve never thought to ask about his pillow talk with his conquests, and maybe that’s what sets me apart from all these notches in his bedpost. I know who he is underneath the swagger, the flash, and the crazy stunts on skis. That’s a different kind of intimacy that doesn’t always go hand in hand with sex.

I shrug it off and gesture with my wine glass. Laura gives me a refill and Janice rapid clicks through the posts about Waffles until we hit one that slaps me in the face with familiarity.

“Vienne Rochette, alpine skier from France...let’s see, these pictures are--”

“Taken in New Zealand. Early September,” I fill in and grab some of Heather’s popcorn to absorb the alcohol.

“You’re right, how did you--”

I moan and bend over myself as I think of his three days of silence followed by his drunken whispers in my ear. What if he called me and asked if the casual thing was a mistake because he fucked her and felt guilty about it? I can’t judge him for it since that’s right around the time I slept with Bentley, but god does the thought hurt. It’s a knife straight to my heart, and it’s in that moment that I realize just how right everyone was to be worried about me falling for Ryen.

Because I think that maybe I already have.

“That’s a noticeable gap. Mid-July to early September,” Laura soothes. “Is that...normal for him?”

“Are you calling my boyfriend a man-whore?” I ask pathetically and then I’m laughing hysterically because I called him my boyfriend. It’s the first time I’ve done that.

“I mean, not really,” Janice answers Laura’s question. “I’d have to look further back than June of last year to figure that out, but I’m pretty sure there’s at least one a month, usually two. Oh! But I also remember that after Vienne, there’s this huge gap of silence in his love life. Like people started thinking he had proposed to Vienne or something insane like that because all he posted or was seen doing was training, stuff about his dog, competitions and travel, food porn. See?”

I look up and catch flashes of more answers and frantic theories until suddenly there’s a grainy picture and Janice freezes. “I don’t remember seeing this one.”

“Wait!” I yell before she can click forward. I stare at the picture and Heather triumphantly reads the tags Carrie added.

“Not engaged to Vienne Rochette. Back in business baby. Mystery blonde 2k17. Colorado Springs. December.”

It’s me. From the bar. My legs wrapped around Ryen and him leaning into me. It’s from an angle that you can’t see my face, but the date...the date, the surroundings, the shirt I’m wearing, and god his smile. The way he’s looking at me melts my panties and my heart all at once.

“It’s...you,” Janice says. “That’s you, Prim.”

A confusing mix of emotions swirls together in my stomach. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Oh boy,” Laura says and tries to tug me off the couch. I can’t move, though. Too busy staring at the back of my own head. I sit up straight and wave off Laura’s concerns.

“No. I’m fine. Keep going, Janice.”

There’s a few more asks and theories and lamentations that he’s turned into a hermit, involved with nothing and no one but skiing and his dog. Then there’s about five seconds of insanity actually placing him with Katniss after the fallout from Graham’s video and Wiress’ injury because someone produces a picture of them sitting together in the stands in New Zealand and that throws me for a loop because Katniss never mentioned that, but I guess she didn’t think it was important and it must have been for one of Peeta’s races anyways. I let it go just as Janice reaches another debunked theory.

“Sorry for the non-Ryen post, but it’s related! And important. Pretty sure that biathlon athlete we were losing our heads over is dating Ryen’s younger brother. Want proof? Straight from an avid biathlon fan. Thanks @ski-shoot-ski!” Heather reads.

And there they are, Katniss and Peeta dancing in a club, lost to the music. I’ve never seen these pictures before, have no idea when or where they were taken, but hot _damn_. They practically sizzle on the screen and I have to laugh at Katniss and how futile it is for her to even try to deny that there’s something there.

“Shall we continue?” Janice asks with a smile and I nod, feeling reckless and crazed.

“By all means, proceed!” A few more question posts and some gawking over Ryen’s hot baby brother and then I sputter and choke on my wine. “What the fuck?”

“The return of Mystery Blonde 2k17, Colorado Springs,” Janice crows and leans to the side so I can stare at the four pictures of Ryen and me as she toggles through them. Talking outside the restaurant before our dinner with family, Caitlin hanging off his shoulders and Savannah fixing Graham’s tie off to the side. Cozied up in the freaking hotel elevator -- and okay that one scares me because you can see my face plain as day and someone managed to get that close and take a picture without me knowing it. Two more in the restaurant the morning after, when we had omelets. And in one of those, you can clearly see us holding hands. A flurry of questions and theories as Ryen’s internet based fans lose their collective shit over the fact that there are multiple pictures of Ryen with what appears to be the same blonde from just a few weeks ago and who is this girl and is it serious? She’s at dinner with his family! This has never happened before, has it?! Then Carrie calls on her Colorado Springs based fans to keep their eyes out for more sightings of Mystery Blonde.

“I’m not ready for this,” I say and leave my wine glass in Laura’s hand as I bolt from the room. I lock myself in the bathroom and sit on the toilet to hyperventilate. I’ve never broken down in front of my friends before. I don’t know how to handle this. I’m supposed to be the one with my life all together here! My hands fumble for my phone and I drop it on the floor and grab my ribs because there’s a stitch in my side now and oh my god how does one breathe when your entire life is posted on the internet and dissected by ravenous fans?

Ryen joked about it like it was nothing, but I’m not used to this. Some of those people called me vicious names. They don’t even know me! I begin to understand Katniss’ desire to keep her and Peeta under wraps. It might be futile, but I can understand it now.

Add that to the huge inventory of lovers Ryen has racked up and how I can’t even compare to most of them and this is a disaster. Katniss was right. I should have kept my distance. Because almost everything she tried to warn me about has now happened.

I’ve fallen for him. I’m stupidly in love with him and love shouldn’t hurt like this. Shouldn’t come with this level of doubt or second guessing.

I groan and lean my head against the wall.

“Prim? You’re not puking in there, are you?” Laura’s voice is muffled through the door but I can still hear the concern in her voice.

“Not yet,” I say with false cheer in my voice.

“You know, Janice went back before June and, um. There are a lot of pictures of him with a lot of different girls.”

“Strangely enough, this isn’t making me feel better.”

“No, but what should make you feel better is that after that French skier, there’s no one with him on that website but you.” I sit there still as a stone as that sinks in. “I mean, before last June there’s everything from staged pictures to grainy paparazzi shots of him with any number of girls. A new one every month, like Janice said. I’m now basically convinced that if he so much as flirts with a waitress, it winds up on the internet. Which means that since September...it’s just been you, Primmy.”

And now I’m thinking of the tests and the gentle prodding for more and the way he spoke to me a few weeks ago and a small fluttering struggles back to life inside me. I unlock and crack the door and Laura slips inside with me.

“But now I’m all over the internet. I’m not an actress or a world traveler or a renowned athlete. I’m a student and a physical therapist. Being with me is tantamount to him having an affair with one of the team’s trainers...less than that! The intern trainer! I mean we’ve been having great sex, but those pictures prove he can get that literally anywhere and with almost anyone he wants! I’ve got nothing to hold his interest!”

“Look, you’re right about one thing. He’s clearly played the field and could get anyone he wants, but...the fact that he hasn’t since September means he chose you. He’s choosing you for a reason,” Laura says and kneels down in front of me. “I don’t know for sure what it is, but I can think of at least three dozen reasons why he might. Maybe you should take his offer, use the time to relax and recharge because you clearly need it, and then maybe ask him what you need to know.”

“I’m afraid of the answer,” I admit pathetically and Laura smiles at me with understanding in her eyes.

“Better to know and deal with it than to sit on a toilet worrying about it.” I snort and she helps me to my feet. I stagger as the wine hits my legs and the room sways. “Come on, while you’re toasted and talkative, the girls want dirty details.”

“I’m not telling you how good he is in bed. Because he’s really fucking good. Better be with all the experience he’s had, right?” I snort and lean against her.

“Really fucking good or really good at fucking?” Laura asks and I grin at the twist in my words.

“Both.” And then Janice hands me my glass of wine and I don’t remember a thing after that until I wake up sprawled on my bed. Laura’s on the floor, asleep on a pile of blankets. I hear snoring through the open door. The sound appears to be coming from the living room.

I groan and roll over something hard. Glare at it and then panic when I see it’s my phone. Oh god who did I drunk dial?

My head pounds as I see only one call that I can’t account for in my history last night — to Jordan. Odd. I switch to text and Ryen’s at the top.

_Done_

Done? What’s done!? I open the thread and scroll up. I go too far and have to skim through old messages that I remember before I get to one that I don’t.

**_What is your opinion on cock cages?_ **

What the fuck is a cock cage and why am I asking Ryen about them?!

_I feel like this is a conversation to be had in person._

**_Answer the question_ **

_I don’t have any personal experience with them._

_Why are you asking?_

**_Curious_ **

_Curious?_

_What prompted this?_

**_I’ll ask the questions._ **

There’s enough of a gap that the next few start with a new timestamp.

_You were asking questions?_

_I’ll answer anything you ask me, Rosie._

_Should I kneel for this? ;)_

**_Might not be a bad idea._ **

_Fuck that’s hot._

_And now I’m curious about your girl talk tonight._

**_I can’t tell you. Secret girl secret code states that I can’t divulge a thing._ **

_Did you ask them about the weekend getaway? Or is that secret too?_

**_They all want to go._ **

_Great! I need first and last names for everyone._

Another long pause.

_So….Primrose Everdeen, Laura ????..._

**_What if I wanna try one of these things. Would you do that for me?_ **

_What things?_

_A cock cage?_

_You really wanna lock me up like that? Then I can’t rock your socks off._

**_You can when I let you out._ **

**_And your hands and mouth won’t be locked up._ **

I have to pause right then and look up what the hell a cock cage is. I’ve got a pretty good idea based on context and discover real fast that I’m right.

_I’m amazingly turned on by this side of you._

**_Maybe you need someone to punish you for being such a bad boy._ **

_Fuck._

_Stop distracting me. Trying to get you and your friends a vacation, remember?_

_So...names?_

**_Laura Dalton, Heather Holley, Janice Sterling, Jordan Vassar._ **

_Jordan?_

**_Yep. You asked for four friends._ **

**_Is there a problem?_ **

_No problem._

**_Good boy._ **

_Now I’m really turned on._

_Are you gonna spank me, Rosie?_

**_I might. If you misbehave._ **

**_You can’t touch yourself tonight._ **

_Why not?_

**_Because my friends are here and they’re drunk. Staying the night._ **

_And?_

**_You can’t touch yourself until I can touch myself._ **

_How do you know I won’t do it anyways?_

**_Call it a test of trust._ **

_I’ll beg_

**_It won’t work._ **

_Please? I’m so hard right now. Let me jerk off?_

_Rosie?_

**_No_ **

_I’ll do anything. What do you want me to do?_

**_Buy one of those cock cages. And wear it. Mail me the key._ **

_I’m not sure that’s safe…_

**_Then no tickling the pickle._ **

_You realize that’s gonna destroy my stamina right?_

**_Sounds like an excuse._ **

**_Where are my tickets?_ **

_Check your e-mail._

**_Good._ **

**_How often do you masturbate?_ **

_You really want that answer?_

**_Yes_ **

_Almost every other day._

_You’re in my head, Rosie. I want you all the time and I can’t get you out._

_I want you right now._

_Please, baby. I wanna cum._

**_No_ **

_What do I have to do?_

**_You know what I want._ **

_If this is what it takes to prove that I can deserve your trust…_

_You’re worth it._

There’s another huge time gap and then the last one he sent just a little over an hour ago...

_Done_

Oh holy fuck. What have I done? I switch to my email and groan. Laura shifts and starts to wake as I open the already read email with the subject: Your Trip Itinerary. Yep, I’m going to California with my friends. Guess I better tell Haymitch and see if Ms Ripper can watch Buttercup.

But it’s the unread email from Ryen that worries me the most. I open it and brace myself as it loads. A forwarded receipt for a fucking male chastity cage.

“This is not a good way to build trust,” I grumble to my pillow. Or maybe it is. Ugh how did I complicate my life this badly?

“Everything okay?” Laura asks.

“I don’t know. What did we talk about last night? After the bathroom?”

“Bedroom gymnastics, Heather’s fanfiction habit and the weird things she’s had to look up or try out in the name of research—“ I stagger from the bed and grab my coat, stumble to the door, holding one hand to my head because I’m feeling woozy.

“Prim?” Janice asks from the couch, groggy and hoarse.

“Just need some air,” I gasp and stumble outside. Leaning against the rail, I work up the nerve to call Ryen.

“Hey,” he says, and it sounds like he just woke up.

“Why’d you do that? You didn’t have to do that!”

“I don’t know. Could be kinda fun. You’re a really good tease, Rosie.”

Guilt and desire and leftover drunkenness make me dizzy and I sway. I grip the railing, confused at the turn this has taken. Ryen keeps going when I can’t even find words.

“I got to thinking about that night at your apartment. When you used me as a visual aid so you could study. Then you held me down and made me do kegels. How fucking hot that was. And then how hard I came when you finally let me. I mean, it’s always incredible with you, but fuck. That was a seriously intense orgasm. Made me think that maybe you’re on to something.”

“On to something?” I ask breathlessly.

“Yeah. I liked you bossing me around, taking control. Teasing me. Denying me. Fuck I’m hard again just thinking about it. Can I take care of this now?”

“Don’t,” I say and I’m not sure where the steel in my voice comes from but Ryen actually whines.

“Oh god Rosie. How long are you going to make me wait?”

A devious thought enters my brain and I toy with the zipper on my coat.

“Until I send you that picture of me in my blue bikini.”

“Fuck,” he says. My cheeks heat and I jump when the door opens and Heather sees me.

“Where do you keep the pain killers?” she groans and I have to stifle my laugh.

“Under the bathroom sink, blue plastic tote.”

“Huh?” Ryen asks and Heather thanks me and leaves.

“Not you. Heather needs Tylenol. We um...got a little toasted last night.”

“How toasted?”

“Enough that I agreed to let you send me on a vacation and apparently talked you into wearing a chastity belt.”

“I see,” Ryen says woodenly.

“Okay listen, it sounds exciting the way you put it, and as much as I kinda wanna try it too, I think maybe we put that away for now and think about it, maybe do some research so we don’t hurt you.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” he says in a gravelly tone and I shiver.

“What if we start small? As in...the other thing.”

“Say it, Rosie. I wanna hear you say it.”

“If you touch yourself, play with your dick, or make yourself come before I say you can, I’ll have to punish you,” I say and the voice I use is some kind of aphrodisiac because now I’m turned on too.

Ryen curses and groans, but he agrees to it. Then he tells me he has to go, but promises he’ll behave himself. I return to the apartment and Janice stares at me, wide eyed.

“What’s got you strutting like you own the world?”

“Maybe I do,” I say and the weird thing is, I feel strangely powerful. It’s probably not healthy but at least I’m not worried about Ryen’s sordid past...or mine.

The week is easier to bear when I wake every morning to a picture of Ryen’s hard on. Not a lurid dick pic but a sexy shot of him covered with a sheet or a pair of pajama pants, only the outline of an erection visible in his grip or the bulge of it, accompanied by a variety of captions that make me squirm all through class and work.

_Good morning, gorgeous._

_May I come today?_

_Dreamt about you last night._

_Yours_

_Ready to beg for it_

I deny him and expect resistance, but the strange thing is, he never once complains. Instead, he finds a hundred other things for us to talk about. He tells me all about his competitions and sends pictures of food with descriptions of how good it is. I’m actually able to keep track of his whereabouts with him keeping me informed, and I begin to decipher a food rating scale he uses that ranges from “Dare Graham to eat this and have a camera ready” to “Find a recipe for this” to my personal favorite… “Next time I eat this, I want to be licking it off your belly, Rosie.”

The night before I’m supposed to leave for California, I pack and send my itinerary to Haymitch, careful to scrub it of any connections to Ryen. He sends me a thumbs up and an update on Katniss.

_She’s doing better. Don’t know what it is about that boy but he makes her shine._

_Headed to Italy next. You be careful in California_

Italy. I still need to give Ryen my answer about March. But I guess maybe I’m waiting to see how this trip to California goes before I decide.

Before I shut my suitcase, I lay out the blue bikini on my bed, next to the open suitcase, and take a picture to send to Ryen.

**_Not sure if I’ve got room._ **

_You don’t need panties. Make room. It doesn’t need that much. Wear it on the damn plane in place of panties and bra._

I laugh and pack the suit then zip the case shut and set it by the front door, ready to go.

 _So now that I need a distraction..._ Titanic _is on again._

I groan but call him anyways.

“What is it with you and this movie?”

“This movie is how I discovered the beauty that is women’s breasts,” he says and I laugh. “My mother was appalled and I’m pretty sure she made Dad sleep on the couch for like a week after he watched it with me and Peeta.”

“You need a distraction and you think seeing Kate Winslet’s breasts is going to help?”

“I looked away. Mother would be proud,” he says and I shake my head and laugh as I turn on my own TV and bring it up on Netflix.

“Where are you?”

“Music to die by.”

I move through the movie until I reach the same point and settle on the couch. It takes us another moment or two to get mine synced up to his, but once we do, it becomes easy to talk.

“Are you excited?”

“Yes,” I tell him. “I’ve never seen the Pacific. Actually I’ve never seen any ocean.”

“What else have you never seen but always wanted to?”

“Gah, where to start?” I list a few places and once I start, I can’t seem to stop. I only manage it because it occurs to me how provincial I sound.

“How come you’ve never gone to any of these places? Some of them are places Katniss goes to compete.”

“I think she wanted me to focus on school. Have a job that needed an education and was more...stable than her life.”

“How boring.”

“It’s not so bad. I mean, I’d love to travel more but I do love what I’m doing.”

“You’ll still get to see them all. Every place you can dream of. That’s my new goal.”

“And here it comes,” I say and Ryen groans. “See all that room? That door is freaking huge. Huge!”

“It makes sense for him to die. He _had_ to die for her to live,” Ryen says and that stops me short of a witty remark about Rose’s lack of coordination.

“Why?”

“Well think about it...he’d probably gamble away the grocery money for cigarettes or charcoal pencils.” Then Ryen adopts a smoky and sultry voice that has me laughing in seconds. “We can’t live on cigarettes and dreams, Jack! Pfft. Rose is better off without him. She lived her life to the fullest and still managed not to starve.”

“I figured Jack would be your hero,” I say and Ryen scoffs.

“Maybe at one point. The way he lives is exciting, but it’s also...solitary...It almost has to be. The guy has no real home.”

I have no answer for that and even though Ryen moves on afterwards, in my head...I can’t. It sticks with me through getting ready in the morning and on my way to the airport, only dispelled when the girls descend on me in a cloud of happy smiles and excited chatter.

“Okay,” I tell them all when we reach our gate. “Picture time!”

Laura hands her phone to someone and the lady snaps a few quick pictures that Laura shares with all of us. We board and I send the picture of the five of us to Ryen just as they shut the cabin door. Our flights are uneventful and then we’re distracted by how beautiful the town and our hotel are. As we’re settling in our room, I turn my phone back on and grin at the messages from Ryen.

_Jordan is the redhead, isn’t she?_

_You made me think for months that Jordan was a dude, you little minx._

_All this time, I’ve been jealous of a girl._

**_Maybe you should be_ **

I say and sink into the bed.

_Well now I am._

_Does she eat better pussy than me?_

**_I told you. I’ve never slept with Jordan_ **

_But you would? If given the chance?_

**_Not anymore_ **

**_Unless you arranged something special for my birthday ;)_ **

“Hey Prim! Beaches!”

“Be right there!” I say and quickly change into my hot pink bikini and giggle to myself as we head out to the beach. When we’re settled, I ask Janice to take a picture of me and gleefully send it to Ryen. Laura orders drinks for us and Heather leads the toast to “Our Benefactor.” I snap a picture of the drinks and send that too.

_That bikini you’re wearing, while it is smoking hot, it is not blue_

I settle into my chair with a sigh and relax. We spend the day soaking up sun and the sounds of the waves, find a cozy place to eat. In the morning, we wake refreshed and I text Ryen about how his competition is going while we wait on breakfast. Which turns out to be a room service feast that he ordered for us.

The girls and I wander art galleries and quaint stores, carefully selecting something to buy to remember our trip. We head to the beach for the evening and I send pictures of the sunset and me in my black bikini to Ryen.

_Gorgeous. Still not blue tho..._

_But now my balls are. Fuck Rosie, don’t be cruel_

**_You said you liked it when I teased you and denied you._ **

_I regret ever telling you that._

It’s only a few days, but on our last full day, I wake feeling like a fresh start. Ready to take on my last semester and life in general.

**_I needed this_ **

_You’re welcome ;)_

**_Why are you so good to me?_ **

_You deserve it. I told you I’d give you the world if I could_

We take a bike ride through town and stop to take pictures of the scenery. And when we lay out on the beach late in the afternoon, I have Laura take one last picture of me. In my blue bikini. She smiles as she hands me my phone.

“That might be the best one yet.”

When I send it to Ryen, I’m actually nervous. It’s silly but I’m almost afraid he’ll somehow be disappointed. I add a flirty caption, hoping it’ll boost my confidence.

**_I want proof of good behavior_ **

All through dinner, I ignore my phone and enjoy the evening of good food and laughter with my friends. I force myself to wait until they’re all in bed and I’m alone, grateful that Ryen splurged on a suite for us all, giving me a room to myself. Then I settle in bed and open the messages from him. There’s an audio file, a picture, and two words.

_Your turn_

I plug in my headphones and lay back in bed to start the audio file. Eight minutes of Ryen whispering in my ear all the dirty things he wants me to do to him. How beautiful and sexy I am. How hard he’s been the past week and how desperate for a release he is now. How much he wishes I were the one making him come.

“But not yet, Rosie. Oh fuck I wanna cum so bad, but you first. I always want you to come first. Fuck I hope you’re touching yourself to this.”

I am. My hands took over what my body needed without consent from my mind, but it feels so good, with his voice in my ear and the memory of his hands on my skin that I don’t stop. Eight minutes of Ryen moaning and pausing in pleasuring himself just so he can talk to a recording device and give me time to come with him across distance and time. My body jerks each time he gets close, but I hold off too. I made him wait and so can I.

“Rosie, baby. You’ve got me so...so wound up. My balls are aching with the need to cum.” Words like that push me closer and further until he warns me that he can’t hold off and I hasten the motions of my hands until I fall apart with the sound of him doing the same in my ears.

“Come with me. Fuck Rosie. I can’t stop cumming. Oh god Rosie I—“ His words choke off in a strangled moan as I slowly pump my fingers through my folds to bring myself back down, imagining him hovering over me and rolling his hips to milk every last bit of pleasure from us both.

“Fuck, I miss you,” he breathes in my ear and then the audio stops and I lay there staring out my window at the stars and missing him too. My chest aches with it and I have to take a deep breath before lifting my phone to take a picture of my face, headphones still in, and send it to Ryen.

I’m staring at the picture he sent me, reclining in bed, his hair wild as always and his face flushed with a recent orgasm, milky white cum strewn all across his bare chest. A lot of it.

_You are unbelievably beautiful when you’ve just been fucked. Never gonna get tired of seeing that look on your face._

_Wish I could have been the one to put it there._

**_You were_ **

I answer and then curl up in a ball to fall asleep, but I can’t just yet as thoughts careen through my head. Love isn’t supposed to hurt so what’s this ache in my heart? What’s this fear that I can’t seem to shake?

I pick my phone back up and take myself to the dreaded tumblr website, scroll mindlessly through a backlog of pictures and pause on the ones of me. I keep expecting him to give more, and that’s what he’s done. How much more can I ask of him without putting myself out there too?

I close out the browser window and send him one more text.

**_Take me to Italy <3_ **


	8. Quiche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold! I am finally caught up-ish to Outside Chance. Woot Woot! This one parallels chapter 23 of Outside Chance and a little into chapter 24, but not much. It turned into a doozy but it's a rather meaty chapter. The next one will overlap between 24 and 25 of Outside Chance, which is why 25 is my next priority. Everyone understand that? Happy feasting! ;-)

I can see the difference when Katniss and Haymitch walk towards me at the baggage claim. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that there’s a pep in her step, but she’s not scowling and she’s nowhere close to dragging like she was when she left. When she sees me, she smiles and opens her arms to me. I fall into them and curl myself close. She rocks us twice and then releases me. Haymitch takes a turn embracing me and then we move to collect their bags.

“How was your trip?” I ask and Katniss’ cheeks pinken.

“Not bad,” she says. “It was rough at first but then--”

Haymitch grunts and steps away from us. “I’ll get the bags while you girls catch up.”

“I’m guessing he doesn’t want the raunchy deets about Peeta’s visit to you,” I tease and she blushes deeper, but also laughs.

“Probably not. Hey, I’m planning on flying to Korea via Canada a few days early. I know we were going to fly together but Peeta has a race coming up and it’s his last for the regular season so--”

“I’ll be fine,” I insist and she blinks at me.

“I didn’t even finish.”

“You were going to ask if I wanted to go with you to Canada or if I’d rather keep my flights the same.”

“Oh, well yes. You’ve got school.” I nod and slip one arm around her to rest my head on her shoulder.

“And you don’t want little sister hanging around while you bang your boyfriend to give him good luck. I get it.”

“That’s not it!”

“Sure Katniss.” I chuckle and she huffs in aggravation.

“How are classes going?” she changes the subject, but not exactly.

“Rough. Which is why I think I’ll stick around here and keep my flights the same. I’m already missing a couple weeks for the Olympics.”

I have a brief thought that maybe I can convince Ryen to spend a few days here before he heads to Korea, while Katniss is in Canada. I’m still shaken by those pictures of us together and the reactions of some of his fans. I know that things like that will just become a part of life if I’m with Ryen, but it may take me some time to get used to it. Which is why I’d rather have a few days of quiet with him before the Olympics officially kick off. After all, we’ll be around family and at least five thousand cameras in Korea.

“If you’re sure,” Katniss says and I nod.

“So does Peeta know you’ll be there?”

“Not yet,” she says. “I’d like it to be a surprise.”

I’m about to suggest we go lingerie shopping one of these days, but Haymitch returns with his arms full of luggage.

“Back to G-rated for now,” he grumbles as we both reach out to help with the bags.

“Your language is never G-rated,” Katniss argues and Haymitch grunts once as she leads us out towards the parking.

“I think I liked you better with your voice not working,” he says and she glares at him over her shoulder, but there’s no real bite to the expression.

The days become insane. Packing and prep for Korea. I have some assignments that I cram in to finish early and others that I wind up asking for extensions. My boss changes his tune and gives me some chaff over missing so much time, and once that’s dealt with, Katniss disappears for a few days to shoot an ice cream ad in Wisconsin. I wonder if she’ll run into Carrie and quickly shake that thought off.

While she’s gone, Haymitch stops by to take me out for dinner and spoils my plans for Skype sex with Ryen. I can’t complain, though. Haymitch is gone with Katniss so much that nights like these are rare and precious.

We talk about after graduation job possibilities and he examines me closely when I mention that I’ve been looking in Salt Lake City.

“What’s in Salt Lake?”

“Oh all kinds of things,” I say and give him a quick run down of the clinics in the area that I’ve been in contact with. I’m fairly confident that I have a job here when I graduate, but it doesn’t hurt to explore my options. “I just wanted to see what else is out there.”

“Have you told you sister this?”

“Not yet,” I admit. “She’s just so busy.”

“Still wants to know,” he reminds me. “You move away from here after graduation, that could change her priorities.” And now I feel really guilty. There are so many things that I wish I could talk to her about right now, not just this.

I’ve thought about asking her how she deals with all the press attention. The craze that happened after Wiress’ injury gave me a taste of it, but they came to the door wanting to talk to Katniss’ sister, not Primrose Everdeen. What she deals with won’t be the same as what I’ll be dealing with. Katniss is famous for things that _she’s_ done. If I become recognizable, it will be solely because of my connections to her and to Ryen. The latter of which is a still somewhat fragile connection. He’s been as busy as Katniss lately, and his phone calls have tapered off in the past few weeks. Still regular, but I almost miss the frequency from right after the press day. Even though he’s agreed to come see me while Katniss is in Canada, that’s still days away.

As for Katniss, she’s already got so much on her mind. My problem’s can wait.

“I’ll find some time to talk to her about it,” I say as Haymitch pays the bill and watches me closely. I never know if he believes my diversions or just lets me get away with them. “It’s not as important as what we’ve got coming up next week!”

He grunts and lets me change the subject to his health. That hasn’t always worked, but the older he’s gotten, the more effective it’s become.

Two days before Katniss is supposed to fly to Canada, I get stuck late at work. All I want is to go home and take a bubble bath. As I’m leaving work, I check my phone and smile when I see Ryen’s name in my notifications.

_Change of plans. Spent a few days in Wyoming and managed to catch an earlier flight to your neck of the woods._

**_Where are you now?_ **

_Grocery store. Had to pick up a few things before I check in._

He sends me the name and address of his hotel. It’s not one he’s stayed in before.

_How soon can you be there?_

**_I should talk to Katniss about her plans for the evening first_ **

_Don’t bother. I didn’t fly alone._

**_Explain_ **

_Her evening is booked_

_Also, the flight attendant informed me that just because he’s the family runt, I shouldn’t try to stuff Peeta in the overhead compartment._

_Can you imagine the nerve?_

**_You are mean sometimes_ **

_Oh don’t worry about him. He knows how to fight back._

_But I did make him take the bus after he asked me in a very loud voice if I’d “had that tattoo removed” as he pointed to my dick ;)_

**_Ryen!_ **

_I’m kidding._

_Mostly._

_Bus was his choice._

_He said he had his own errand to run. Didn’t want to wait for me to run mine too._

I shake my head and drop my things in the car. I’m about to drive off when something occurs to me.

**_Should I mention that she has a visitor on the way?_ **

_Not unless you think she needs a heads up._

_You know, to usher her side piece out the door._

**_You are impossible. You know she doesn’t have a side piece._ **

_Damn. I was hoping for some drama._

**_Be nice_ **

_Only for you, Rosie. :D_

**_Give me an hour?_ **

_Can’t wait._

I’m almost giddy as I drive home and shower, let Katniss know that I’m going out with friends. She looks almost disappointed and for one second, I feel guilty. I hug her and promise her that we’ll spend tomorrow together.

“Maybe we can go shopping? Pick up something for you to surprise Peeta with?” The little white lie is almost too easy.

“That could be horrendous.”

“Horrendously fun. I promise I won’t talk you into anything that doesn’t make you feel fabulous.”

“My baby sister is talking me into buying naughty lingerie. Ugh. Something is wrong with this picture,” Katniss groans, but she agrees to the shopping date and waves me out the door, telling me to have fun and be safe.

“You too,” I sing under my breath once the door is shut and she can’t hear me.

My phone chimes as I’m starting my car.

_I know you said you didn’t want to know about any of the internet chatter, but have you seen this?_

From Janice. I open it up and stare. Unable to form any kind of reaction. It’s a picture of a gorgeous brunette with gem tone green eyes and pouty pink lips, her dark brown hair falling in shining, perfect waves to her shoulders. She’s snuggled up close to a happy looking Waffles wearing a red-white-and-blue bandana. It takes me another minute to follow the link and stare at the actual post and caption.

**Waffles is ready for the Olympics and wishes good luck to his daddy!**

“What the fuck?” I ask the car. It takes me a hot minute to gather my wits and not peel out of the parking lot. There has to be a logical explanation for this. I remind myself of all the ridiculous and blatantly false internet posts that I’ve seen about Ryen, but it’s hard to deny there might be something behind this one when she’s _holding his dog._

A few deep breaths and I’m able to come to a sensible conclusion.

**_Must be the dog sitter_ **

_Okay! Just checking!_

I put my phone away and take a few more deep breaths before I can drive. A few more and I’m calm enough to speak without screeching. Because even though I brushed it off with Janice, there’s something about the picture that bothers me. I try to shake it off as paranoia. Senseless fear because Ryen’s done nothing to make me doubt his sincerity. That I’m aware of.

Damnit this sucks. I need to get control of my own brain before I do or say something stupid.

When I reach the hotel, I text Ryen to ask him what room he’s in. I’m waiting for an answer, walking across the hotel lobby when the hairs stand up on my neck. I feel like someone’s watching me, but when I turn around, there’s no one obviously paying attention to me. I try to shake the feeling, but can’t.

Before I get on the elevator, his answer comes through. I slip my hood up over my head, then concentrate on my phone and ignore the two other people in the small space. I breathe a sigh of relief when they get off at the floor before Ryen’s and it’s only then that I’m able to relax. This public life thing is definitely going to take some time to get used to.

Between my scare in the lobby and my confusion over the dog hugging skank, I’m pretty keyed up by the time I knock on Ryen’s door. He opens it and my heart jumps. Literally jumps and I spin on my heel.

“Oops! Wrong room!” I say. He laughs and grabs my arm.

“Get back here, Rosie,” he says as he pulls me into the room and shuts the door before wrapping me up in the warmest hug. My purse slides off my shoulder and hits the floor. “I’m not letting you get away that easy.”

I grab a fistful of his shirt and bury my face in the crook of his neck, inhale deeply and do my best not to cry. His warm, spicy scent fills my nostrils but does nothing to me like it usually does. Why do I feel like the world is imploding?

“Hey,” he murmurs. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

I think about telling him that nothing’s wrong, but it’s all been jammed up inside me so tightly that I can’t hold it in anymore.

“I got a little freaked out walking through the lobby. Thought someone was watching me or photographing me.” When I look up into his eyes, I can tell he’s confused. “There were these pictures of us together in the elevator last month and at breakfast the morning after and...someone took pictures of us and they wound up on the internet. It kind of freaked me out. Is that...normal?”

“I...yeah I guess so. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

I shrug and pluck at his shirt. “Thought I could handle it.” His lips part and there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. I rush to reassure him. “It’s okay! There are worse things to be called than ‘Mystery blonde, Colorado Springs.’”

When I say it, he leans back away from me and his brow furrows. “What kind of website was this?”

“The kind that catalogues all your many conquests, and now I guess I’m one of them,” I tease and lean towards him. He turns his head and his jaw clenches. I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong.

“Is that what your girl talk was about that night? Looking at a gossip site about me?” I can’t answer because when he puts it that way, it sounds just as bad as it did that night before the wine and my own insecurities pushed me into the deep end. But I’m confused. He said he was used to being the topic of rumor. “You internet stalked me? And then the whole thing about the chastity belt? Was that because you looked up how many women I’ve been with?”

“Well it’s hardly stalking when it’s out there for anyone to see,” I say defensively and he steps back away from me. “And in my defense, I think freaking out was a normal response to just how many of them there were and who some of them were.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me about them?”

“Like you would have told me about every woman you’ve ever slept with,” I say, my hand cutting through the air.

“I would have! If you’d just asked! I wanted you to ask me, remember? How the hell am I supposed to earn your trust if you won’t even give me the chance?”

“I do trust you, Ryen,” I insist. “All those women isn’t even what I’m really upset about.”

“Then what are you upset over?”

“The fact that someone took a picture of us together without either of us knowing and posted it on the internet! There’s all this speculation about who I am and about our relationship and some of it’s not pleasant towards me. It’s...it’s...I feel _violated_!” As soon as the words are out, the feelings rush back in and I hold my arms across my belly. Definitely not used to this yet.

“Oh fuck, Rosie. You’ve been dealing with this for almost a month?” I nod and he sighs. “I wish you’d said something sooner,” he says and shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Or maybe I should have warned you.”

“You knew?”

“Not exactly. It’s not like I visit those sites to check what they’re posting or google myself. Sometimes it’s just easier not to know or care. I do know that people take pictures of me all the time. I’ve just gotten so used to blocking it out when it happens that I didn’t think to warn you.”

“It’s okay,” I mumble and rub my own arms for comfort because he’s still keeping his distance from me. My eyes dart around the room for something to distract me. It’s a nice room, a suite complete with a kitchen and living room. There’s probably a huge tub for that bubble bath I still want. If Ryen doesn’t kick me out in the next thirty seconds. “Are we okay?”

“I don’t know,” he says and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I’m still a little upset that you cyber stalked me with your friends instead of talking to me. I mean, I thought we were giving this serious thing a real try and don’t people in a real relationship share their fears and what’s bothering them?”

I curl in on myself and bite my lip in shame. He sounds so...betrayed. But there’s the girl with Waffles and this raw feeling still between us, even as he steps close enough to raise goosebumps on my arms but not close enough to actually touch me.

“Ask me, Rosie. Please? Now that you’ve seen all the gossip and rumors, and know exactly what you’ll have to put up with...at least give me a chance to defend myself.”

“Ryen--”

“Ask me who I’ve slept with since September. Since I first slept with you in June. Or since I hit puberty if that’ll make you happy.” There’s a thread of anger in his voice and it frightens me. Not because I think he’d ever hurt me, but because it means that I’ve already hurt him.

“Who have you slept with since I saw you at Skadi?” I whisper and brace myself for the pain. He waits until I’m looking him in the eye and holds my gaze as he speaks.

“A girl named Noelle who I met at a club in Salt Lake. Don’t know her last name.” Mystery Brunette the Second. “Made out with a girl in Vegas at a friend’s bachelor party. Didn’t sleep with her.” Mystery Brunette the Third. “Lucy Carmichael, one of the trainers for the downhill team. She and her boyfriend were on a break and I guess she thought I’d be fun for a night before she got back together with him.” I cringe at how harsh he sounds and try not to think about the fact that this is one affair that wasn’t on that website at all. Of course, if there were false matches, then there would probably be real ones missing, too.

“I’m gonna guess that website put me with Sheila Patterson because neither of us walked into an interview or talked with a fan during the month of August without someone asking if we were an item.” I nod and his jaw clenches. His eyes watch me carefully. “Sheila’s a good friend of mine. She’s also openly lesbian, but people like to overlook that anytime we’re seen together. She just proposed to her girlfriend of six years on New Years. They’re getting married in the summer. Sheila knows all about you and wants to meet you. She’s also told me several times that I’m an idiot for not eloping with you months ago.”

My jaw drops open and I make a strange noise. One of Ryen’s friends who’s never even met me has told Ryen he should elope with me? He keeps going before I can even begin to analyze what that means. “Then I adopted Waffles and slept with you again. Went to New Zealand and…” he trails off and works his jaw.

“Vienne Rochette,” I prompt and he nods.

“I regretted that before we were even done. It felt...wrong. Hell, they all felt wrong after you but her more than the others. I almost didn’t. But I thought...at the time I thought there was no way someone as amazing as you would ever take a real risk on someone like me. I’m sorry Rosie. If I could take it back, I would. But I can’t take any of them back.” I shake my head and fight back tears. “Please don’t cry, Rosie. I beat myself up for days before I worked up the nerve to even text you and as soon as we hung up, I knew I couldn’t keep lying to myself or to you about how I feel.”

His arms wrap around me then as he keeps apologizing. He’s been honest with me, so I guess now it’s my turn.

“Please stop apologizing,” I moan. “I already feel awful about mine. I wanted to be furious with you. I wanted to break her face in two. But I can’t! Because we said no expectations and while you were in New Zealand fucking her, I was here fucking some dickhead named Bentley.”

“Bentley? As in the car?” Ryen asks with a snort and I smack him lightly on the back.

“Heather set me up with him. And the worst part is...It was awful. It wasn’t even good sex. And then I felt guilty about it! And then...”

I hiccough and can’t keep going.

His hand rubs up and down my back and his lips caress my neck. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. We had an agreement and just because I’d already decided not to take advantage of it anymore doesn't mean I can change the rules on you. Whoever they were, however many of them there were, it doesn’t matter anymore.” He leans back and stares at me in an exaggerated look of suspicion, his tone changing to something more playful. “Unless it was after the press day.”

“No,” I manage to say through my tearful laughter. “There’s been no one but you since that night.”

“Okay,” he says softly and kisses the tip of my nose. “From now on, talk to me about these things? I know I’m gone all the time and it’s a real leap of faith being with me, so I’ll try not to get upset if you have doubts or suspicions, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumble and then work one arm free to show him my phone. “And her?”

He squints at the picture and then smiles. “Dog sitter. Amy...Isaacs?”

“You don’t even know her last name and she’s watching our dog? What kind of references does she have? Experience? Does she know his favorite foods or how he likes his belly rubbed side to side not up and down? And why’d she have to be drop dead gorgeous? Are there no ugly or straight male dog sitters in Salt Lake City?” I’m getting worked up again but Ryen is laughing and nuzzling my neck. “This isn’t funny, Ryen!”

“You called him _our_ dog,” he says.

“Well he is!” I shout, exasperated and all out of patience.

“Is Buttercup _our_ cat then?”

“Yes!” I say and then his lips are on mine. I squirm free, refusing to be denied. “Don’t distract me! You didn’t answer the other questions!”

“Savannah hired her. They’re somehow related. She’ll be watching Pepper for the Olympics, too. We’ll call Savannah right now if you don’t believe me or want Amy’s resume.”

And now that he’s said it, I can see a vague physical resemblance between Savannah and this girl. Maybe a cousin or something.

“I’m feeling a little dizzy,” I say and he grins.

“That’s normal around me.” His words sober me in an instant and I glare at him.

“You are an unapologetic, arrogant ass, Ryen Mellark.”

“And you’re a spitfire hussy dressed up as an innocent flower, Primrose Everdeen,” he says and tickles my side.

I wriggle in his embrace and somehow we wind up kissing. Sloppy and wet as we stagger across the room and I drop my phone to bury my hands in his hair and hold his mouth to mine. My back hits something solid and I yelp in his mouth. His hands soothe the ache and his lips slow on mine, but sometimes slow is better.

He caresses over my hips and kisses beneath my jaw, sending shivers through my whole body. But I’m overheating and shed my coat. I release one button at a time on his shirt until it’s open just enough to get my hands beneath the fabric and on his shoulders.

“Why me, Ryen?” I breathe. “You could have a movie star or a model or anyone you want.”

He pauses in kissing my neck and then whispers something I’m not expecting. “Because you told me to stop the car.”

“What?” I ask, confused. My hands remain beneath his shirt as he lifts his head to stare down at me.

“I don’t know how to explain it. You saw something that was hurt and broken, abandoned forgotten unloved, and instead of discarding him, you insisted on saving him.”

I’m not sure what to think of that. “This is all because of Waffles?”

“Not entirely, it’s also because you’d make room on the door or die in the water too,” he says and laughs nervously. “God I’m mucking this up, aren’t I?”

I toy with his hair and wait for him to order his words. “It’s a thousand things, maybe a million, I don’t know. I keep finding more every day. You say I’m an unapologetic ass but you’re an unapologetic optimist. The world seems more beautiful with you in it. Kinder. Softer. And then you kissed me back and told me I should be kissing you when I knew that I shouldn’t. You make me feel like there’s room for trust in people. That not everyone is going to hurt or reject or be selfish. Sometimes life is just fun and I feel like I can share that with you, but when it’s not, you’re the one I want to hold onto because you make it easier to deal with.”

“That sounds like a line,” I tease as my insides melt into a puddle of goo, and he smiles.

“Is it a good one at least?”

“Pretty good,” I whisper and then stare at his throat, grappling with a choice. He seems to sense that I still have questions and tilts his head down so that our eyes meet.

“Hey. Whatever it is, you can ask me. I’ve only managed to get away with being the player so long because I never lied to any of them. It’s the only way I know how to survive so I figure it’s probably a good policy for this too, although feel free to tell me I’m wrong.” His smile widens and I can’t help but shake my head at him.

“No, I like how honest you are,” I admit and slide my hands back down beneath the open collar of his shirt. “When you said you couldn’t lie to yourself about how you felt...after that night you called me from New Zealand....”

“There’s been no one but you since that phone call, Rosie. Not even so much as a kiss or a stray hand.” It’s not exactly what I was fishing for, but it’s enough for now. “Any other questions?”

“Why are we still dressed?”

He laughs and grabs my ass, hauls me up to set me on the kitchenette counter. He sucks on my neck and I hold his head in place while his hands unbutton my blouse. One plastic disk at a time with a hundred kisses in between. I let my hands roam over his back, down to his waist. He whispers encouragement as I unbuckle his belt and get his pants open enough for me to slide my hand inside and grab his cock through his briefs. He groans and his mouth covers one nipple. Ravenous sucks and kisses through lace have me bucking my hips uselessly until he grabs my hand and removes it from his cock, holds it pinned above my head. He tugs me to the edge of the counter and grinds our centers together. I turn my head to the side, seeking more air and that’s when I see it.

Cinnamon. Sitting on top of a round metal one-use baking pan at the top of a grocery bag right next to me.

Oh fuck. My hips jerk frantically and I barely hear the beautiful things he’s murmuring because my brain has latched onto what I’m seeing and what it means.

“Fuck I can’t wait much longer, Rosie. You drive me wild. Are you wet for me?”

“Wha—yes! Yes!” I say and tear my attention away from the grocery bag and back to him. I yank at his shirt to get it off and he gets my jeans and shoes off, steps back between my legs and moves my panties aside so he can touch me. I brace my legs against his and lean back to ride his hand.

“You’re so fucking wet. God I love how you respond to me. How sensual you are.”

I hold tight to his shoulder as need builds inside me, tightening inside my chest and dropping my jaw open with long moans. Something vibrates against the back of my thigh and it throws me off kilter but also sends a shot of pleasure up to my core.

“Shit. Sorry,” he says with a laugh and lets go of the hand he’s still got pinned to the cabinets to dig through his pocket. “Phone.”

When he’s got it in his hand, he glances at the screen and then his smile vanishes in an instant.

“Ryen? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Peeta,” he says as the phone stops vibrating.

“I thought you said he was going to see Katniss.”

“He was. He is. He should be there by now.”

Ryen slides his fingers from me and wipes them on his jeans as he calls his brother back. Anxiety curls inside me. Something’s not right if Peeta’s calling Ryen instead of fucking Katniss into oblivion right now.

“Hey...what? No it’s fine...slow down. I can’t...Peet, where the fuck are you?...Well that explains the wind. Cover your fucking phone so I can understand you.” Ryen releases me and steps back. I slowly slide off the counter as he runs a hand through his hair and turns his back to me.

“No, dude. You can’t crash here. Primrose is here...just go back. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding. You guys can work it out… _what?!”_ Anxiety grows to dread as I search for what could possibly cause a fight between them. It makes no sense. Ryen listens to Peeta, shaking his head the whole time like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “No, that’s not the ans—- FUCK!” He hangs up and tosses his phone on the couch, fixing his pants and moving toward his shoes at the same time.

“What happened?” I ask.

“You tell me, Rosie. He’s on his way to the airport because he had a fight with Katniss and whatever she said hurt him enough to make him bolt.”

“How am I supposed to know what she said?” I ask angrily as he ties his shoes.

“Oh right. Forgot I’m dealing with two people who don’t tell each other anything.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask and grab his shirt as he tries to get it back on while sweeping past me towards his coat.

“The fact that Katniss still thinks we’re just having casual sex, that’s what.”

I gasp and he glares at me. “What did you do? Ask her about us?”

“Not exactly. I asked Peeta. He asked her. And you cyber stalked me.”

“Why would you do that? This is ridiculous,” I mutter and he nods. I thought we were okay. But now I find out he’s been checking in on me through his brother?

“You’re right, it is ridiculous. Ridiculous that your sister has somehow gotten the best person I know to fall in love with her and she’s stupid enough to throw him away again!”

“She wouldn’t!” I yell, but I’m not so sure. Something must have happened to hurt her or make her pull back.

“Then how come she’s got some ex boyfriend in her apartment?”

“Ex...what?!” I screech.

“Some guy named Giles or whatever. All I caught was ex boyfriend back from Afghanistan or—“

“Gale?!” I ask and Ryen nods, righteous anger in his eyes.

“So you know this guy?”

And I can’t believe that this is where we are. “No,” I say emphatically. “That can’t be right. He’s been out of the picture for years.”

“Apparently not because my brother just met him and now Peeta’s headed back to the airport to get on a plane to Canada.”

I stare at him, aghast. He shakes off my hold and shoves his arms into his coat as I furiously button my shirt and get my pants back on. “Where are you going?”

“To see if I can talk some sense into my stubborn brother’s skull. Then maybe I’ll go give your sister a piece of my mind.”

“Don’t you dare blame Katniss for this!” I struggle with my boots but manage.

“How can I not? I was joking when I talked about her side piece!”

“She would never!” I yell. “Where’s my purse?”

“Where the fuck are _you_ going?” He asks even as he’s picking it up and I’m snatching his phone up off the couch and mine off the floor.

“Home!” I shout and stop at the door to glare at him. “If Gale’s involved in this, she’s probably a fucking mess right now! He trashed her heart and disappeared over two years ago! But you wouldn’t know about that because Katniss doesn’t talk to anyone about the pain she’s endured! Not even me sometimes!”

Ryen stares at me as we exchange items roughly. “Why are _we_ fighting over this?”

“I don’t know!”

And then I squeal as my back hits the door and Ryen’s tongue sweeps through my mouth and I cling to him, lifting my legs to wrap around him with help from his rough hands. Then I’m grinding my still wet lips on his still hard dick through our clothes and thinking of just leaving this mess for our stubborn siblings to deal with.

But we can’t. Because he can’t ignore Peeta’s pain and I can’t ignore Katniss’.

“Fuck!” He yells as he tears his mouth from mine and sets me down so he can hand me my coat. We hurry from the room and he holds my hand as long as he can. Until we have to split up into two cars in the parking lot.

“Maybe she went after him,” I say hopefully as we both unlock our doors.

“I’ll let you know if I see her at the airport.”

“Don’t lecture her if you do,” I say and wait for him to nod before I start my car.

As I’m driving, though, I have too much time. I’m worried about her and my body is still strung up with unresolved lust. Fear morphs into annoyance which quickly turns to fury when I see her car still in the lot. I try to hold onto some vestige of control but it evaporates when I open the unlocked door to our apartment and I see her just sitting there on the couch like an unfeeling lump.

The door slams behind me and Buttercup bolts out of her hold and streaks down the hall to hide in my room, and that’s how I know she’s hanging on the edge of nothingness, because Buttercup only snuggles with her when she’s shut herself away.

I stand in front of her and drop my purse and coat. I glare and she stares and I don’t care that I’m probably a rumpled mess from making out with Ryen. This is not how this night was supposed to go for any of us and I’m furious that after all they’ve been through, she and Peeta can’t get their damn act together. So furious that I snap.

“What the hell is your problem?” I ask and her eyes jump back up to my face. “God! You’re such a pain in the ass, Katniss! I used to look up to you and think you were smart! But I was right over the summer. You’re an idiot with boys!”

“Your shirt--”

“I know about my shirt! Don’t think I don’t! Now shut up and stop changing the subject! Explain to me why I’m stuck here dealing with _your_ shit? Hmmm? You’re screwing with my night! I am supposed to be upside down and getting fucked senseless right now, but noooooo!” I grab a pillow off one of the chairs and throw it at her. She deflects it like it’s a reflex and that just pisses me off more. I want her to respond. I want her to wake up and yell back at me. To feel something instead of becoming the cold machine that maybe always made sure we had food and a roof and almost everything I could ask for except the one thing I wanted most...my sister’s happiness.

“ _My_ boyfriend hightails it to the airport to keep _your_ boyfriend from getting on a fucking plane to Canada and leaves me with wet panties and no cinnamon rolls! I was _this_ close to getting my cinnamon rolls!”

“Your boyfriend?” she asks and I screech in fury at her one track brain. I throw another pillow and she catches this one before dropping it to the floor.

“That would be the only thing you hear! Get up! Get up and wake the fuck up, Katniss!”

“Hey!” She shouts and finally shows real signs of life, standing to dodge the next pillow I throw at her and scowling at me. Good! I want her to be mad. Better mad than numb.

My phone goes off and I check it.

_Hope you’re having better luck than me. Asshole just went through security. Last plane out of here leaves in twenty and he’s gonna be on it._

I scream at them both and their idiocy. How could they? How could either of them so easily ignore what’s right in front of them?! I can’t take it anymore.

“That’s it! I have had it with you two morons! Get in your room! Where is your suitcase?”

“I thought you were just having fun and sex with Ryen? When did--”

“Not now!” I cut her off before she can make this about me. I am an expert at diverting attention and there is no way I’m letting her flip the tables on me now. “You’re packing your bag this instant and getting on a plane to Canada tomorrow.”

 ** _She was going to surprise him in Canada in two days anyways. I’ll see if I can get her out of here tomorrow instead._** I type furiously and send it to Ryen.

“I’d put your ass on one tonight if there were any more flights left out of here, but your stubborn boyfriend just left on the last one! You are not going to Korea without fixing this!”

“Prim, he’s not going to want to see me. I’ll just cause problems if I’m there,” she argues pathetically.

“Bullshit! Get on that plane tomorrow and maybe I’ll still get my cinnamon rolls sometime this century!”

“Okay, what is with the cinnamon rolls?” She asks and I bury my face in my hands because for some reason I feel like if _they_ can’t even make love work then what chance do Ryen and I have? But this isn’t really about me.

“Never mind the cinnamon rolls. Would you please just admit that you’re in love with Peeta?”

“Prim--”

“No! No excuses!” I shout and my fingers frantically swipe on my screen until I’m staring at their stupidly oblivious and stupidly in love faces and shove it at Katniss, hoping she’ll finally see what I’ve known all along. “Look at your fucking face, Katniss! You don’t make this face around Gale! You never did! Or anyone else, for that matter!”

“Gale left. And how do you--”

“Good riddance!” I scream and Katniss jumps before going rigid, staring at me wide eyed.

“I thought you liked Gale?”

“Yeah, I did. Right up until the point when he hurt my sister two years ago and decided his brother shouldn’t date me!”

“When was that?” I pick up another pillow as fury consumes me.

“You were gone! It’s always while you’re gone!” I launch it and it goes horribly wide. And I realize it’s not just about her ignoring her own feelings, it’s about her ignoring mine too. All the hard work and years spent with her on the road, yes it brought in money and I would never ask her to not chase her dreams, but it left me here to figure out life by myself. I made the best of it, but damnit. I almost resent her for leaving me. For not seeing me all these years.

“I don’t know these things if you don’t tell me!” She screams back at me. Yes! Emotions! She wants to know, then here it comes.

“Fine! I slept with Rory when I was eighteen.” I can see the instant judgement in her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. He wasn’t my first, but I thought I might be in love with him. Then he refused to date me because Gale thought it was a bad idea. I was too blonde or not Native enough or not pure enough or just because I was related to you and Gale couldn’t get what he wanted from you as fast as he wanted it. Fuck if I know! Rory never gave me a straight answer. Whatever it was, it fucking hurt! But I got over it. Now you do the same!”

Finally her eyes drop to my phone as I shove it back in her face, and slowly, ever so slowly, anger softens to disbelief.

“Do we really look like that when we’re together?” she whispers and I try not to scream more at her.

“Yes, you do,” I whine and Katniss steps back, tugging on her braid and her eyes filling with a strange fear, or maybe a sadness. “Everyone can see it except for you. You’re happy with him, Katniss. I want you to be happy. Maybe not all the time, I know that’s not possible, but don’t you want some happiness, too? What’s the point of all this,” I wave my arms around wildly, referring to life and existence in general, “if you’re miserable? He’s there for you and you’re there for him. Do you even own a map? You went halfway around the world for him and he did the same for you! You never have to second guess him or what he wants from you. So why are you just standing there and letting him walk away?”

She sits heavily back on the couch and stares at the floor as I wait and hope. Then she speaks. She talks and I nearly sob with relief.

Her voice wavers as she tells me about illness and time zones and distance making communication tough, which is something I can relate to. A picture of a teammate that she took the wrong way and I can’t judge her for that either. Look at what I did tonight. She speaks of missing him horribly and fears that she’s just going to lose him all over, of nightmares and missed chances that never seem to stop. How they’ve just been hanging on and trying to survive and how she knows he loves her but fear makes silent mouths dangerous.

The longer she talks, the stronger her words become. I sit next to her and Buttercup eventually joins us too.

She talks about how badly she wanted this season to be incredible and how she wanted the Olympics press to cover what she’s done on her own because dealing with the rest of it just hurts so much sometimes, even years later. But mostly because she’s proud of what she did. How it took her months to come to terms with that and then it didn’t matter because Graham tried to congratulate Peeta and inadvertently dragged the rest of us into a media storm. The frustration and confusion that went along with that.

“I’m just not used to this level of attention,” she admits. “No one in this country really cared about me or biathlon until my name got linked to a Mellark.” I bite the inside of my cheek and keep silent, although it strikes me then that maybe she really will understand what I’m dealing with. Later. We need to deal with this problem immediately.

Then she says something that stuns me, about how that media storm overshadowed -- erased -- half of who we are. A part of her that Gale understands and I pet Buttercup as I realize this is an even bigger, more complicated mess than I expected. It’s not as easy as a boy and a girl falling in love and living happily ever after. Not when there’s worlds of history and conflict tied to their story. It’s the things she says in a soft voice about feeling like she has to choose that makes me speak again.

“Why does it have to be one or the other?” I ask and she stares at me. I think of all the times in Michigan she tried to soothe my hurts, help me heal from losing Mom and Dad. I tuck her hair behind her ear and sigh. Make my best attempt atd doing for her what she’s always done for me. To see the strengths we can’t see in ourselves. Words pour out and maybe I’m rambling but she doesn’t stop me.

“You make it sound so easy when it’s really so messy,” she says when I finish and I shake my head. I remember imperfectly perfect days from our childhood and so many moments that leave bittersweet warmth in my heart.

“Even Mom and Dad sometimes disagreed about these things, remember?” She shakes her head. “I do. But they learned to be better for each other, because they loved one another. Peeta will do the same for you.”

“When did you get so wise?” Her words mean the world to me. Not the condescending tones of someone who thinks I’m wild or even the overprotective ones of someone who feels responsible for me. No, this is finally my sister. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close, hoping maybe she can feel just a piece of what Ryen claims I make him feel. If it gets her to go fight, then I want her to feel it too. As we hold each other, she gradually relaxes and rubs one hand soothingly over my arm.

“I told you. I had amazing role models. You and Haymitch. But even role models are sometimes wrong.”

“I should talk to you about these things more often,” she mutters and I nod. There are so many things that almost spill off my tongue right then, but first we need to repair the damage between her and Peeta.

“You should. Now where’s your suitcase?”

We pack her bags. Katniss stares at me aghast as I call the airlines and sweet talk them into changing her flight without the fees. I have to lay the lies on pretty thick, and I’m sure she thinks I’m an awful person for it, but in the end it works. I call Haymitch to let him know while Katniss is in the kitchen, salvaging a ruined dinner into something we can both eat.

After all of that, I text Ryen, a little afraid that this will come between us. But I can’t leave my sister now, and I somehow know that if he could be with Peeta right now, he would.

**_She’s going to Canada tomorrow._ **

_Oh thank fuck. You’re amazing, Rosie_

**_Don’t thank me yet._ **

**_I think I’m going to stay here tonight._ **

**_We both need it._ **

_Okay. Will I see you tomorrow? After she’s airborne?_

**_Yes_ **

_Then sweet dreams, Rosie_

I wait for more that doesn’t come, thinking of that grocery bag and it’s promising contents and wondering if maybe I was wrong. Any number of baked breakfast dishes have cinnamon in them. Maybe he wasn’t going to make me cinnamon rolls after all.

Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I know it’s not fair to Ryen, wanting those cinnamon rolls so soon. There are still things we’re trying to figure out, and really, we haven’t been together all that long. And as I walk past the open bathroom door while Katniss brushes her teeth, her brow furrowed in thought, it occurs to me that there’s more at stake than just our hearts.

I curl up in Katniss’ bed and stare at empty sheets. The things he told me after the press day visit me in the night. About his doubts and fears, the cruel things his mother planted in his mind. Sloppy second, flaky, unworthy. I want him to win that gold, to prove her wrong, to prove to himself that he’s not just second choice or second best or a waste of talent or a waste of anything really. My need for cinnamon rolls can wait. I just hope I don’t have to wait too long.

Katniss joins me and we face each other to whisper, like we used to do on the worst nights we spent in Michigan. When the memories of our lost parents, and for Katniss her lost first love, and the damage of the people who could never replace them became too much to bear.

“Are you going to tell me what’s happening with you and Ryen?” she whispers and I take a deep breath as I think about what Ryen said tonight. About me not telling her anything. I’ve been so scared that she’ll judge me or tell me that he’s no good for me. Maybe she still will, but I need her more than I need my illusions. So I tell her.

“He’s not what you think he is, Katniss. I mean, maybe he was, but they all knew what they were getting into with him. I thought I did too. But, when he’s not making me come so hard I can’t speak, there’s so much more. A whole side to him...to us...that people don’t get to see. He’s honest and sweet and funny and he treats me like a queen. And he’s just as scared as I am. Maybe we started as something casual, but then...I don’t know. When I’m with him...I can be me. Just me. I don’t have to act like I’m perfect or have it all together.”

I sniffle in the night and although I can feel her eyes on me, the judgement doesn’t come. So I keep going.

“We rescued and adopted a dog together. His name is Waffles. We tried to keep it casual, because that’s what we both wanted at first and I guess we both thought that’s all we could manage or deserve. But it’s not. Not since…” Not since he opened to me and trusted me with the painful parts of his heart. And maybe that’s what real love is. Trusting your pain and your fears to someone else and knowing they won’t use it to hurt you or make you feel less for them, but will make it easier to deal with. “Anyways. It’s good now. Cinnamon roll worthy, I think.”

“What does that even mean?” she asks and I chuckle at her confusion. I guess it would sound odd to someone who doesn’t know what he said to me in the kitchens at Skadi. I open my eyes and trust my fears to my sister’s hands.

“When we first started this whole casual thing...he said he always provides breakfast the morning after but that he’s never made cinnamon rolls for his women because that would make them fall in love with him.”

“So if he makes you cinnamon rolls…”

“Then he wants me to love him.”

“But you already do?” I nod and feel tears brimming in my eyes again, an automatic response to the understanding in her voice. The recognition of what I’m feeling.

“Oh Prim,” she murmurs and holds me close as I sniffle uncontrollably. But they aren’t tears of pain or sadness. They’re tears of relief. We fall asleep like that, comforting each other in the night with Buttercup curled up between our legs.

In the morning, she’s nervous but resolved. I take her and Haymitch to the airport and do my best to encourage her not to give up. I couldn’t bear it if she did. With everything that she’s endured and how close she is to happiness and all that she’s ever wanted, she can’t give up now.

I watch them for as long as I can and sigh in relief when they disappear. Walk slowly back out to my car. My tank is at a quarter full and Haymitch’s lectures about never letting it drop that low in winter have me swinging through a gas station on my way back to see Ryen. Haymitch has only ever let me get away with so much because I project the appearance of being responsible and having my shit together. It’s a pretty good act and I don’t plan on messing it up now.

I lean against my car as I wait for the tank to fill and close my eyes to absorb the minuscule warmth of the winter sun and the bite of the cold air. I listen to the sounds of the gas pumping. I force myself to take deep, cleansing breaths and release some of the tension of the past day. It’s been a heck of a ride and all I want right now is to get back to Ryen and maybe we can soak together in that giant tub or relax using his favored method -- some restorative yoga.

The throaty sounds of a truck parking at the pump on the other side from me tickle at the edges of my awareness and I slowly bring myself back to the present. The door shuts and boots clack on the pavement. A few beeps as they pay and start their own gas flowing.

“Primrose?”

My eyes fly open and I almost laugh when I see him standing five feet away from me. It must be the week for ex boyfriends we’d rather dump in a river somewhere to make unwanted appearances.

“Thought that was you. Wow! You look great,” Rory says and I’m suddenly angry. Angry that I’ve managed to avoid him for close to three years and today, of all days, is the day that he wanders back into my presence. Has the gall to speak to me like his brother didn’t just blow through my sister’s life again and leave more devastation behind than he did the first time. That anger is surely the reason I’m mean to him.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I ask and he flinches.

“Uh, wow. Guess I deserve that.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I shrug as my tank thankfully fills and the safety clicks free on the pump. I return the nozzle and refuse a receipt.

“It’s Rory. Rory Hawthorne?” He says hesitantly. And that was always the problem. He let everyone else dictate his life and never could find his damn spine.

“Are you telling or asking,” I say and open my door.

“Guess I asked for that too. Hey listen, Prim… I know this is gonna sound random but I’m kind of glad I ran into you.”

“What do you need a boost to your confidence by making someone else feel like shit? Sorry but I’ve had enough of you and your family pulling that stunt to last me a lifetime,” I say and his mouth thins. I try once more to get in my car and leave.

“I’m sorry about what happened between us!”

I glance back at him and the pleading look in his gray eyes. I've been mean and that’s not me. So I soften a little. Just a little.

“So am I,” I say and his lips curl into a smile.

“So can I talk you into maybe meeting me for coffee one day? Catch up with each other?”

“I don’t think so, Rory.” I say with a shake of my head and a shudder at a sudden burst of cold wind. “I appreciate the apology but that’s all I can accept from you.”

“Prim—“

“But you can give your older brother a message for me,” I cut him off and his eyes widen a moment. “Punch him in the mouth and tell him to stay the fuck away from my sister, or else Haymitch and I will cut off his balls and feed them to the wolves while he watches, okay?”

I smile and savor his stunned look for just a second before climbing back in my car and driving away. My hands actually shake and I drive on autopilot for a moment. I turn up the radio to drown out my thoughts and find myself back in the same parking spot as last night, next to Ryen’s rental car. I sigh and gather my purse, flip my hood back up to hide my face and head inside. I could really use those cinnamon rolls and that bubble bath right about twelve hours ago.

He’s on the phone when he answers my knock and doesn’t look too happy about whatever’s being said.

 _Now what?_ I mouth to him. _Peeta?_

Ryen shakes his head and moves to the bedroom as I work my boots off my feet and drop my coat on the couch.

“Alright. Yeah, it’ll be close but I think I can make that flight.”

What?

I follow him and stand in the doorway as he starts stuffing things into an open duffel bag on the bed.

He hangs up and tosses the phone down to keep packing.

“There’s weather moving in. They aren’t exactly sure when it’s going to hit so they want us all out of Colorado by tomorrow morning, just in case. With all the scrambling, they put me on a flight that leaves in three hours. Fuck where’d my passport run off to?”

“So you’re leaving now?”

“Yeah,” he mutters then looks up at me. He moves towards me and we fall into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry, Rosie.”

“Not your fault,” I say.

“No but we barely got any time together. And now…”

He trails off and releases me. I snag his hands in mine so he can’t go far and tilt my head back to look up at him. He caresses my face and I watch his eyes, storing away the way he looks at me, even though I know I’ll see him again in just a few days.

“We’ll see each other in Korea,” I remind him. “And you’re gonna be on that podium again. I just know it.”

He smiles and rests his forehead on mine. “I hope so.”

“Did you talk to Peeta this morning?”

“Yeah, he’s broken up but if Katniss is on her way--”

“She is,” I assure him.

“That’ll help.” We stare at one another until I decide there’s no reason to waste time in silence, even though he is really nice to look at.

“You said three hours? So you have an hour before you need to be at the airport?” He nods and I smile.

“I thought we could grab breakfast together. Unless you’ve already eaten.”

“I have a better idea,” I tell him and lift on my toes to join our mouths together.

Ryen sucks in a breath through his nose as I move my lips against his. I mourn the loss of his hands as he lets mine go, but only for a second before he sets his palms on my shoulders. Then he tugs my coat off my shoulders and I shake my arms to send it to the floor. Our shirts join it, hands working together to strip each other and then bring our bodies and mouths back together.

“Rosie,” he murmurs right before he kiss me, thumb caressing my cheek, an echo of what his tongue does inside my mouth. His hands skim over the contours of my body, down to my ass. He grabs and lifts, takes two steps as I wrap my legs around him and he drops me on top of the chest in the room. I need all of his skin on me, or as much as I can get in the next half hour. I work my boots off my feet as he kisses over the swell of my breast and thumbs my nipples through the lacy cups of my bra. I shiver at the sensations as they tighten into hard buds for him, sending electric pulses straight to my folds. My hips spasm and collide with his.

“Does this feel good?” he whispers and I can hear in his voice that he knows it does.

“You know it does, Ryen. Fuck me? Now? I need it.”

“I don’t wanna love you and leave you, Rosie,” he whispers as I lean back and work my jeans open. His words suggest that he won’t, but his hands move to help me remove my clothes.

“Then love me again the next time we see each other,” I say and manage to get my bra off as he unbuckles his belt and gets his own jeans open and pushed down his hips enough for his cock to sway free. I grab hold of his neck with one hand and wrap my legs around him again, shift my ass to the edge of the chest, to bring him right to my core. I lean back on my other hand to give him complete access. Ryen nudges aside my panties and groans.

“God you are exquisite,” he says and trails his fingers through my folds. I can feel them part beneath his touch, aching and dripping and greedy for his cock. I wriggle on the dresser and he grips himself at the base, trails the head through my arousal just as he did his fingers. “Seems almost a shame to rush this. You deserve hours upon hours of love and attention.”

“We don’t have time for that now, Ryen,” I whimper as he eases just the head inside me. “Please?”

“Please what?” he asks with a grin and I squirm, manage to get just a little more of him inside me.

“Ryen, please? Oh please give my your cock!” I gasp. His hands grasp my hips and pull, my walls spasming to take his whole length. I groan and my nails dig into his neck, scrape across the wood beneath me.

“I wanna hear it, Rosie,” he whispers, his nose caressing mine. “Beg for my cock.”

My legs move restlessly and squeeze him. He slides out almost completely and rocks his hips in shallow thrusts that tease me with just the head.

“Please?”

“I’m not convinced you want this.”

“Please, Ryen. Please make me come?” He slides slowly back into me and as his hips meet mine, I purposefully clench my pussy walls on him.

“Oh fucking hell,” he groans and bites my neck. I smile and do it again. “Fuck I didn’t think that could feel any better than it did the first time but god damn, Rosie. That alone could make me come if you’re not careful.”

That’s right. Last time I did that to him, he was wearing a condom. I shift my hips and gleefully take advantage of this newfound power.

“What’s the matter, Ryen? Not sure what to do with all that warm, wet flesh squeezing your bare cock?” I do it again to emphasize and his hips jerk between my legs then hold still as he kisses my neck and ears, his fingers digging painfully into my hips. “Feel how slick I am for you? I’m only gonna get wetter if you give me what I want.”

“Fuck,” he groans the word long and low and his hands and hips work in tandem to fuck me. I close my eyes and lean back to enjoy the friction building heat inside me. The feel of his clothes rubbing against my intimate skin because we couldn’t take the time to get his pants off his hips. The tightening in my entire body as he moves us together. Again and again as heat sparks in my chest and my cheeks. The chest thumps against the wall and Ryen’s soft curses soothe the bite of his teeth on my shoulder, my neck, my ears. “I’m gonna come soon, baby.”

I nod and thrust into him best I can. “Let go, Ryen. Give it to me.”

“You first,” he says and then lifts me off the chest, spins with his dick still buried in my pussy. For a second, I’m weightless and then the mattress cushions my fall. But we’re draped over the corner to avoid his half-packed bags and my head flies down towards the floor. My palms hit carpet and Ryen’s hands grip the sheets next my ribs, his hips moving between my thighs. I tighten the grip my legs have on him so I don’t wind up in a heap on the floor.

I’m open mouthed and moaning loud enough to earn complaints but fuck if I care. Our groins smashing together and his cock stroking through me sends shockwaves down to my fucking toe nails. For a second, it scares me and I try to pull back from it.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Rosie,” he growls. “You wanted my cock, now give me what I want.”

“Oh my god,” I gasp as he thrusts faster and harder and I can’t stop it this time as it consumes me and the only thing keeping me from floating away to heaven are his hips still pounding me right back to earth. My hips jerk beneath him, the only motion I’m capable of as the waves crest and fold one over the other. I can feel the rush of wetness leaving me and trickling down between my ass cheeks but I could no more stop that than I can what happens next. I open my eyes and find an image of us reflected in a mirror across the room and watch him.

Now it’s his turn, hips slamming into me, hard. Eyes closed in ecstasy. Harder as his rhythm slows, but the moans leaving his mouth and the flush invading his skin, the feel of him pulsing inside me and pushing back against my pussy still clenching in an aftershock tells me what I need to know. The aches between my lips coalesces into a tight ball then springs free, migrating to my chest and I mouth the words, “I love you, Ryen.”

He doesn’t see or hear them, but that’s okay. I won’t burden him with that until I know that’s what he wants too.

His body goes limp as his orgasm finally ends. He sways above me but curls one arm beneath me to roll us away from the edge and to a more stable position. Our limbs entwine and as we lay there, I can feel his cum work its way back out of my lips and over my thigh. His fingers find it and he swirls it into a huge mess.

I hide my smile behind my hand as I grab hold of the sheets beneath us and watch him as he lays there with his eyes closed, a soft smile on his lips as he catches his breath.

“If you’re this worn out, maybe it’s a good thing I gave you your good luck fuck now instead of in Korea,” I tease and his eyes open. My breath catches for a second but then he grins and has me pinned to the bed, his mouth and his facial hair tickling my breasts until it becomes too much to bear and I’m moaning pathetically and wishing he didn’t have to go just yet.

“Rosie, what have you done to me?” he asks and I’m not sure what to say as he lifts his head and I shift my legs to cradle his hips. Before I can answer, he brushes hair back off my forehead and kisses me. Tears well up in my eyes as his tongue rubs mine in a slow dance that feels almost like a promise. When he lifts his head, he sighs and glances at the bedside clock. “I have to get going.”

My fingers clench uselessly on his chest, searching for a shirt to grab onto that isn’t there. Instead, I’m scraping hard muscles and hot skin.

“I know,” I whisper and he gazes down at me.

“Room is paid for until tomorrow. You can stay here until then if you like, enjoy the tub and the room service.”

“Okay,” I say and he kisses me once more before he leaves me in bed to go clean up and get dressed. I’m still naked and sticky, tangled in the sheets when he finds his passport and tucks it in his back pocket.

His luggage waits by the door as he braces his hands on the bed and leans over me. I cup my hands on his cheeks as we kiss. His fingers trail up my thigh and then between my lips. I moan and shift so he can slip one finger in me, up to his knuckle. Then he slides it back out and our lips smack as the kiss ends. We’re only a breath away when he sucks his finger clean, eyes fixed on my mine. My body warms in response but there’s something almost frightened in his eyes as he speaks.

“Will you be there?”

He already knows I’ll be in Korea, so I know that’s not what he’s asking. He must be asking if I’ll be there to see him ski. In the stands watching and rooting for him.

“I will.”

He grins and steals one last kiss before walking out the door and leaving me an emotional mess. I drag myself to the shower and change my mind, soak in the tub instead. When I’m done, I tie my hair up in a bun and get dressed. I’m just working my feet back into my boots when there’s a knock on the door. I freeze and my heart skips as my first thought is that Ryen came back.

But when I open the door, it’s to a woman in a uniform, carrying a tray with a plate covered with a round metal dish to keep the contents warm.

“Your breakfast, ma’am,” she says and I take the tray. There’s a slip of paper that shows it’s been charged to the room.

“Hold on,” I say and dig out money for a tip. I apologize for making her wait and thank her. When I’m alone again, I lift the cover and smile at the scrumptious looking quiche and bowl of fruits. My phone starts ringing and I dive for it, answering without looking and knowing it’s him.

“Hey.”

“Hey, gorgeous. Did you get your breakfast?”

“I did.”

“Good. It’s um...well it’s kind of a funny story. See, when Graham was learning to speak French, I thought it was pronounced ‘quickie’ and--” I burst out laughing and cover my mouth with my hand. It’s still not the cinnamon rolls, but god I almost love this more.

“It’s perfect,” I tell him when I get my laughter under control. I can hear the announcements for boarding in the background. It’s time for him to go for real. “Call me when you get there?”

“I will,” he says and there’s that stupid feeling of fullness in my chest again. Because now I’m asking for something from him that has nothing to do with sex and doesn’t fit casual or the wandering playboy lifestyle at all.

Best quiche ever.


	9. Airport Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile, so as a refresher, this chapter coincides with chapters 24-25 of "Outside Chance"

I keep myself busy to distract my mind from wandering places it needn’t go. Worries about Katniss facing her fears and fighting for what she wants, about Ryen crisscrossing the globe to reach a far away land, even about Peeta and the anguish he must be feeling to have pushed Katniss so firmly away from him. She sends me terse updates through the day, enough for me to know that she hasn’t given up, but neither is the fight over. My consolation are the goofy texts that Ryen sends me, keeping me posted on where in the world he is and the insanity involved in changing around international flights. I almost regret asking, but I have to know.

_And Peeta? How’s he doing?_

**_Hard to tell. Haven’t gotten another chance to call him._ **

**_Texts are short and cryptic._ **

**_Makes me worry but what can I do?_ **

He’s right, of course. There’s not much Ryen can do from where he is. Katniss is the one person best able to reach Peeta and fix this now.

I manage the day and when Katniss calls me in the evening, my hopes fade a little. She should be getting kissed senseless right now if they’ve made up. I brace myself for the worst and answer.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Duck.” I can hear the strain in her voice.

“Not going well?”

“No. It’s like I said, he doesn’t want to see me.”

“Keep trying.”

“I know,” she says. “I know that if I leave after he already knows I’m here, it’ll just make things even worse. I just...this sucks. I feel like there’s these cracks in my chest and...tell me a story, Prim?”

“Something to distract you?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “What about the dog? The one you and Ryen adopted. How come I haven’t even seen this dog?”

“Well,” I say with a soft laugh. “Technically he’s Ryen’s dog, so Waffles lives in Salt Lake City with him, but since I led the rescue effort, he’s mine too.”

“Tell me more?” Well she did so much to help me growing up that I can’t refuse her now. So I talk.

I tell her about how we rescued him and how that led to our first kiss and how I felt like I was weightless. I tell her about Ryen going back to check on the dog and adopting him because whoever used to own him never came for him. Then I tell her about the waffle bar at Skadi and she laughs.

“That how he got his name?”

“Yep,” I say and tell her about Waffle’s preferences for having his belly rubbed side to side and how he’ll smack your face with his paw if you do it wrong. I tell her about Ariel and the other nieces trying to give both Pepper and Waffles a bath and how it ended with an exasperated Pepper, a muddy Waffles, and four very wet and muddy little girls. By the time I get to Waffles howling whenever Ryen’s neighbor plays country music, Katniss can’t stop laughing.

“Oh my god it’s like Ryen in canine form!”

“Do you want me to send a picture?” I ask and she manages to control her laughter enough to answer.

“Yes!” I send it and Katniss makes a noise appropriate to the level of cuteness in the way Waffles tilts his head for the camera. “He’s adorable...thank you, Duck.”

“You bet.”

“I should probably try to get some sleep,” she says.

“Me too,” I tell her. When I hang up, I get ready for bed and lay there with Buttercup at my feet, listening to the silence of my apartment. I’ve always been okay with this part of my life, or at least I thought I was. A melancholy loneliness creeps into the solitary peace of my life as I slip into fitful dreams.

The next two days aren’t much better. I’m in a scramble of pack and prep and finishing assignments. I have to submit one of them to the Dropbox twice because the first thing I send is my second draft of my paper rather than my final version. Then I have to e-mail my professor and explain my incompetence. I luck out, though. He’s a huge skiing fan and knows exactly who my sister is, as well as Ryen and Graham. And he read the Olympics preview, so he apparently already made the connection between me and all of them. He wishes them all good luck and tells me to have a good time in Korea. I hate cashing in on their fame, but this time it saves my ass so I don’t complain.

On my way out the door to the airport, I check the para snowboarding site to see if there are any new updates. They don’t always get their official results up right away, but sometimes they’re fast with the news bites. And checking this might give me some clue as to how things are going rather than me bothering Katniss for an update.

It loads as I pile luggage in my trunk and when I flop into the driver's seat, I glance down and then squeal. There’s a picture of Peeta, his mouth open in a yell and torso bent over, fists clenched. But it’s an expression of joy. Of triumph.

_Mellark Takes First in the Slalom with Flair_

“Oh my gosh!” I yell and click the link. There’s not much in the article besides the fact that he came back after several tough days of practice and a rough first run to obliterate the competition. I think back over my hectic days and realize the last I heard from Katniss was yesterday morning. She sent me a quick text to let me know she and Haymitch were headed to the stands to watch Peeta compete, but then there was nothing for the rest of the day. Now I know why.

Or at least I think I do. Oh I hope they spent the whole night celebrating. I text Janice the link and ask her to do some sleuthing for me, just this once.

_Headed to the airport. No time to look. See if you can find more on this, pretty please?_

I have got to get to the airport. It’s my first international flight and even though Haymitch has been feeding me a steady stream of instructions and tips, I’m a little nervous. I’d rather be there way early and make sure everything is in order than wind up late and have my bags get lost. Eirik even called me to assure me that if I needed anything at all, I could call Gertrude and she’d be happy to help. He’s already there in Korea, flew over early with Savannah and the girls and Savannah’s sister to enjoy some time with Graham and do a bit of sightseeing before the games start.

My phone blows up when I park my car and I juggle my luggage and phone as I walk into the terminal. My feet stop and I stare.

For someone who claims to value her privacy and to hate the spotlight, she’s doing a shitty job of guarding the first and avoiding the latter. The Katniss on my screen is standing in the snow with people scattered in the background, and she’s kissing the hell out of Peeta. At least I know they worked things out but great googly moogly.

Janice’s string of heart eye emojis and all caps words confirm that I’m not biased or seeing things.

**_HOT! SO HOT OMG!!!_ **

**_There’s a poll going already for their celebrity couple name!!_ **

**_Leaders so far are Peeniss, Katna, and my favorite...Everlark. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!?!?_ **

No. No I cannot. But I need details. I drag myself inside and get in line to drop off my bags before I manage to answer her.

_Holy smokes what a kiss! How deep did you have to dig to find that?_

**_Not at all._ **

**_Third google result for Peeta Mellark right now. First one is the Olympic previews. Second one is his bio on the para snowboarding site. Fourth one is his social media sites and then some custom ski making business._ **

Oh shit. Katniss is going to freak.

...Well, maybe not.

“Next please!” I look up and scramble to get my bags on the scales. I’m distracted through the whole check in process, and my scattered thoughts of what Katniss must be going through right now make security a breeze. It’s not until I’m sitting at my gate, settled in for a significant wait that it occurs to me that she didn’t tell me a thing!

I snatch up my phone and call her, almost vindictively hoping she’s mid coitus and I ruin her orgasm. But I don’t get my wish.

“Hello?” She answers and sounds happy. Happy and relaxed. I do get to yell at her though.

“EXPLAIN TO ME WHY THE INTERNET KNOWS MORE ABOUT MY SISTER’S LOVE LIFE THAN ME!”

I get a few odd looks from people waiting with me and smile sweetly at them, wave awkwardly as Katniss sputters for just a second on the other end before she manages coherent speech.

“So, Peeta and I made up.” I heave a sigh and hope she can hear my frustration in Canada. Just to be sure, I let her have it.

“I figured as much, Katniss. Have you seen this kiss? It’s all over the place. People are voting on a celebrity couple name for the two of you! Gah! Why am I asking you? Of course you haven’t seen it! You lived it! And you two freaking rabbits probably haven’t left his bed since! Also, were you trying to cause an early spring in Canada?”

“Uh, not exactly,” she says and I can feel my eyebrow lifting off my head. There’s some ruffling noises that sound suspiciously like sheets. Maybe I did commit coitus interruptus. Good. Turnabout's fair play, buddy.

Then she starts whispering to me and I strain to hear her, although the happiness in her voice is clear. “Not trying to, but may have done that anyways. Oh my god, Prim, he learned how to say ‘I love you’ in Arapaho.”

“He what?” I squeak. That’s not exactly an easy phrase for someone who didn’t grow up speaking the language to learn. I’ve got a million questions and Katniss barely manages to keep up with them.

“Did he learn how to say anything else?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Still, oh my god that is incredible! Is that what that kiss was over?”

“I mean, maybe?”

“What do you mean ‘maybe?’ How can you not be sure?”

“Well there was more than one kiss--”

I squeal and continue interrogating her. I manage to get some bits and pieces but I can tell this is a huge story. I need more of her time for an adequate telling. I need her in front of me and maybe a bowl of popcorn for us to share as she spills.

“I want all the details! Ack! You are not getting out of this, I expect at least an hour of your time in Korea so you can tell me everything. I am so happy for you, Katniss. I just knew you two were meant to be!” She doesn’t say a word and I stop to listen. I think I hear kissing on her end and then soft whispers that clearly aren’t meant for me and that I can’t understand. I mean honestly. They can’t knock it off for five minutes?

“Katniss?”

“Sorry. Naked. Hot. Kiss. Agh!”

I laugh hysterically and garner a few more odd looks, but who fucking cares! They finally have their shit together! And not a moment too soon. I can’t resist teasing her a tiny bit.

“Should we Skype now? I mean you’ve seen my boyfriend naked. I think it’s only fair that I see yours at least once.”

“No!” Her answer is swift and emphatic and I can’t help but laugh louder and kick my feet with glee. I’m not sure if that was a denial for Skype or a general refusal to let me see Peeta naked. She switches the topic before I can tease some clarification out of her.

“So you two are okay? Peeta and I fighting didn’t mess with anything between you and Ryen?”

“No, we’re good,” I say and then struggle to find something else to say.

“You didn’t get your cinnamon rolls, did you?” she asks.

“No, not yet,” I manage to sound cheerful enough as I explain. “He had to leave early because there was weather moving in. Needed to get out of Colorado before he got stuck here. Weather ended up hitting further north, but better safe than sorry!”

“Oh,” Katniss says. “Oh Prim, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I assure her. Then I bring up what I’ve been telling myself since that day. “Maybe it was too soon for that anyways, right?”

“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t make those cinnamon rolls for you eventually,” Katniss says vehemently and I can’t help but laugh a little. Katniss always was my fiercest protector and advocate.

“Maybe. But right now he’s got to focus on the Games and what he needs to do there.”

“Speaking of which, where are you?”

“I’m sitting in the airport right now,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can. Then I take a deep breath and ask because I know I need to talk to someone about this. “Katniss...how do you deal with all the attention? With everyone taking pictures and pointing video cameras at you, watching and judging your every move?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just got used to it,” she says and I sigh. I was afraid it was something like that. “And it’s not all the time.”

“You just got used to it? Even when it’s about you and Peeta?”

“Okay, now I’m worried. What’s going on, Prim?”

“Nothing!” I rush to reassure her. I don’t really want her snooping and finding those pictures of me and Ryen. That’ll just make her angry or worried and I don’t want that for her right now. “It’s just...Ryen’s pretty well-known and if we’re together…”

“Ah,” Katniss says with understanding in her voice. “Well I’m still figuring out how to deal with that myself. Maybe you and I can figure it out together, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I think that’ll help.”

“Okay. I gotta get moving here, Duck.”

“Sure thing! I’ll see you in Seattle”

“See you in Seattle!” she returns and then we hang up and I’m left with people glancing at me like I’m an item of interest.

I can’t help it. I pull up the picture of Katniss and Peeta kissing and sigh. I startle as something occurs to me then. If Katniss forgot to let me know what was going on because she was too busy between the sheets, I’d bet Peeta forgot to let Ryen know.

It only takes me a second to get the picture to where it needs to go, then I pull out my book to read while I wait for boarding. It takes him until then to get back to me.

**_I’m guessing this means they worked it out_ **

_Yep. :)_

**_I’m almost disappointed that I won’t get to knock some sense into them_ **

**_Have you seen that movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail?_ **

_Uh...no?_

**_Okay, that’s next on our to watch list_ **

**_I wanted to see if their skulls would make the coconut horse hooves noise when I smacked them together_ **

_I don’t get that reference_

**_You will ;)_ **

I laugh and tuck my phone away so I can board my plane. I’m excited and nervous, watching all the activity out my window as we prepare for takeoff and then hiding my stupid grin behind my hand as we lift away from the earth.

I’m going to Korea! Someplace I never really imagined I’d get to go. I’ve always known Katniss would make it to the Olympics one day, although I never knew if I’d be allowed to tag along. To experience it with her. I don’t know what it is about those five rings and a torch that makes them so special. Of course they hold something special to Katniss this year since it’s her first, but I wonder if some of the allure is gone for someone like Ryen. This will be his fourth. To me...to the rest of the world even, there’s a kind of special mystique to the Olympics. They only come around every four years, after all. And I’ll be there to cheer on my sister and my boyfriend and I can barely contain the happiness bursting in my heart.

A couple jolts of turbulence and a calm announcement from the pilot shortly after we take off put a small damper on that happiness.

“Folks, this is your captain speaking. We’ll be landing in Denver shortly--”

“Denver?” a few people mutter questions as I strain to understand what the pilot is saying about stopping just to be safe.

The knowing that something might be wrong makes things worse. I know I shouldn’t, but seeing the anxious looks on faces as we dip down to the earth, I pull out my phone and frantically type out three words. _I love you._ And let my thumb hover over the screen, waiting to send it. I should just send it.

But the squeal of tires and the roar of the air as we slow down stops me. I release a deep breath and hold one hand over my chest. As if that will stop my heart from pounding madly. All around me, people murmur in relief. Someone laughs a little too boisterously. They say you’re more likely to die in a car wreck than a plane. That’s how my parents died. So what is it about flying that makes it so scary sometimes?

When I’ve calmed myself down, I delete the text I started. No reason to spring the words too soon. Gah that was dumb. An _I might be in mortal peril and this is my last chance ‘I love you’ oh wait! I’m fine!_ text? I don’t want that to be how the words come out. Unless I’m actually gonna die.

We sit on the tarmac for over an hour and everyone is cranky by the time we make it to a gate. Once more, the helpful captain informs us that the plane has a maintenance issue that needs to be fixed.

“As you exit the aircraft, please visit one of the airline desks in the terminal and they’ll be happy to get you on your way and to your destination as soon as possible. We do apologize for the inconvenience and as always we thank you for--”

I mouth the rote thank you for choosing to fly with us announcement. I try calling Katniss, but her phone is already off. Haymitch’s is the same. I could call Gertrude, but I’m shuffled out of my seat and into the aisles to wait in line to get off the plane. I’ll just have to wait patiently. No big deal.

Inside the terminal, I wait in another line. I check the time and realize that they’re probably landing in Seattle soon, if they haven’t already. I should call them, but I don’t really want to call them if I’ve got no real solution for them. I can just wait until the desk clerk gives me a solid answer.

“I can get you to Los Angeles this evening and then Korea in...two days,” I’m informed and try not to freak.

“Can’t you get me to Seattle? I’m supposed to meet my father and my sister there. They’re in Canada right now.” She doesn’t need to know the whole messy explanation. He’s close enough to being Dad and certainly has acted like our father the past eight years.

“One second,” the desk clerk says and purses her lips.

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate you looking for me,” I tell her in as grateful a voice as I can manage. I catch a glimpse of bags being taken off the plane through the window and think about asking her about that.

“I’m sorry, miss.” I listen to her rattle off options then. It’s no good. Most of the options she presents me with get me there in the middle of Katniss’ competitions or too late. All of them mean I’ll be traveling by myself. I know I’m twenty-one and all and this shouldn’t be difficult, but it is somehow very daunting right this second.

It’s just getting on an airplane. And flying to a foreign country. Which I’ve never done before!

“I can get you to Vancouver today,” she says, sounding frustrated with me. “Or… Phoenix. They _might_ be able to get you on a different flight. That’s the best I can do right now, miss.”

“Can you just… give me a second?” I step aside and she immediately moves on to the next person in line. I really hate doing this. I’ve gotten so far on my own, for years, without panic calling either of them. But I really don’t know what to do this time. Especially since my flights could potentially affect theirs. I hold the phone to my ear and chant to myself as it rings. “Please pick up. Please pick up.”

“Hey, Prim,” Haymitch answers and I’ve never been so relieved to hear his voice. Okay, maybe I have been, but it’s been awhile.

“Haymitch, I’m stuck in Denver.” Before he can ask questions, I spill out the whole story. “She says she can get me to Seattle in three days or put me on standby but I don’t know if that’s gonna work with Katniss’ competition times.”

“Okay, well...take that seat for now,” Haymitch tells me and my heart sinks. “And maybe we can get on a later flight out of here and you on an earlier one so you can meet up with us before crossing.”

“I can do this by myself,” I offer and bite my lip to keep from crying. Tears, really? It’s such an overreaction, but I was so looking forward to this trip with Katniss and Haymitch.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for your first international flight to be done alone,” Haymitch says.

“She said she could get me to Phoenix or Vancouver or even Los Angeles, but then I’m taking a gamble on being able to actually get on a flight to Korea. There’s not even a guarantee that if I fly to Seattle in three days that--”

“Wait,” Haymitch interrupts my whining. “Say that again. About Vancouver.”

“I can get on a flight to Vancouver today?” I repeat, not sure why it’s important until I hear his distant voice, talking to Katniss.

“When’s Cupcake leave Canada? He’s going out through Vancouver, right?”

“Yeah, not until day after tomorrow, though,” Katniss answers.

“Prim, keep your phone handy. I’ll call you right back. I might have a solution.”

“Okay,” I say and stand there immobilized for a moment. Cupcake? I search my memory for who that might be referring to and then a shock of excitement goes through me.

Peeta! It has to mean Peeta!

Suddenly, my situation doesn’t seem so bleak. It’s easier waiting for Haymitch to call me back, even with the woman behind the desk periodically eyeing me as she works through the line of passengers needing rescheduling.

As soon as my phone vibrates in my hand, I answer.

“Alright, Duck. You’re on the 7:20 from Denver to Vancouver. Head to a United desk when we hang up and they’ll get your boarding passes squared away. Make sure you also hand them your luggage tickets so you have a shot in hell at getting your bags. Gertrude is getting you a hotel for a few nights, call her when you land there. Peeta’s flying through Vancouver in two days. You two can join up there and we’ll see you both in Korea. You’ll miss the opening ceremonies, but it’ll get you there for everything else, okay?”

“Oh my gosh, thank you!” I practically squeal. I’m just so relieved that I don’t have to do this alone. “I really wish I could’ve flown with you and Katniss, but this is the next best thing! I’ll keep you posted! I love you, Haymitch!”

“Alright. Love you, too,” Haymitch grunts at me and then hangs up. He never was very sentimental. Content to let us grow and learn in our own way and space, but with the confidence that if we ever need him, he’s always right there for us.

The woman behind the desk finishes with her current customer and waves me back in front of her.

“Primrose Everdeen,” I remind her of my name, thrilled when her harried expression as she stares at her computer screen shifts to surprise.

“Let me just... print these boarding passes for you,” she says and I hand over my luggage tickets so she can reroute those too.

A few minutes later, I’ve got my travel squared away for now and time to spare. I use it to wander the Denver airport. Gertrude calls me and we chat for a moment and then she texts me the information for my hotel in Vancouver. I find some lunch, read a few chapters of my book, watch the planes take off and the sunset. While I’m eating dinner, a text message comes through from a number I don’t have saved in my phone and I squint at it for a second before smiling.

**_Hey Prim. It’s Peeta. Katniss wasn’t sure if you had my number._ **

_I didn’t! How’s Canada?_

**_Cold and snowy._ **

**_Just finished qualifying and heading out to get some dinner. How’s Denver?_ **

_Cold and snowy. I’ve charted all the deep dark secret, mysterious corners of the Denver airport and would like to report...SO MUCH ORANGE!_

**_Haha!_ **

_This is about all Denver International Airport has to offer... Broncos gear in abundance._

**_Already a seasoned traveler scoffing at airport gift shops. ;)_ **

I chuckle and send back the emoji with a monocle. I’ve never really spent time with just Peeta. Which means...I tap my fingers on the sides of my phone with glee...I am gonna have a chance to interrogate and tease my sister’s boyfriend mercilessly.

Oh this is going to be so much fun.

But by the time I reach my hotel in Vancouver and text everyone who might be worried about my well being that I made it, I’m exhausted. My bags didn’t make it with me, although they’re supposed to show up tomorrow on the first flight from Denver. I’m able to take a decent shower with what the hotel provides, at least. I sway beneath the warm spray and fall into bed after, glad that Haymitch suggested I pack a set of pajamas and extra underclothes in my carry-on. Before I fall asleep, I check my phone once more through bleary eyes.

No messages.

It’s a strange and isolating feeling, traveling to a different country. Everyone I know is back home or over an ocean somewhere. Except for Peeta, of course.

I consider texting one of the girls, just to have someone to talk to, but it’s so late that I’m almost afraid to disturb them. I check my phone again, check every account I own, and eventually fall asleep with my phone in my hand.

I wake early and have to search the covers for my phone. The alarm on it has reached its peak volume which means I slept through it for while. And I kicked it under the sheets, so I seriously have to look for it.

“Aha!” I say, triumphant as I find it and stop the alarm. As soon as I do, I see that I have several text messages from multiple people.

An entire thread between Peeta and Gertrude talking about getting him on an earlier flight to Vancouver. The last two in that thread are Peeta saying his races are about to start and Gertrude wishing him luck. I consider answering with my own wishes but don’t want to distract him mid-course with his phone vibrating in his pocket. Or maybe he doesn’t carry it. I have no idea, so I don’t risk it.

Instead, I answer Katniss and Haymitch to tell them I’m up and alive. Then I answer Ryen’s cheeky text about me making my way through the Mellark brothers.

_How do you figure that?_

I manage to get dressed and call the airport about my bags. After breakfast, they get back to me and inform me that my suitcase is on a plane and should be here this afternoon. I’m bundling up to go explore a little when Ryen answers me.

**_Dating me. Flirted with Graham, potentially used his picture for self pleasuring purposes. Now traveling with Peeta._ **

**_Hussy. ;)_ **

_Player_

**_You love me anyways._ **

My pulse stutters at those words. Oh god, am I really that obvious? Maybe he saw me mouth it a few days ago. Maybe I actually said it out loud! He doesn’t seem too off put by it, though.

“Okay, no big deal Prim. He’s just flirting. Flirt back,” I say and bite my lip before typing an answer to him.

_It’s the hair. All three of you have hair that just begs to have fingers run through it and fingernails on your scalps._

I wait for a moment and laugh at myself before sending one more.

_Plus that ass. That’s a true genetic marvel._

**_Damn you’re good. Beating me at my own game, Rosie._ **

**_Gotta go here, but tell the Runt I’ll break every bone in his body if something happens to you._ **

**_Xoxoxo_ **

I send back a lipstick print and then finish dressing as warm as possible. I’d like to at least see _something_ in Vancouver while I’m here. After talking to the hotel desk clerk, I realize this a town you visit in the summer too. Most of what she mentions are warm weather activities, other than skiing. Eventually I settle on the Museum of Anthropology and spend the morning and part of the afternoon wandering the collections.

With the sun up in the sky, I move on to the historic areas of downtown for some lunch and window shopping. It’s while I’m there that I get a text from Gertrude.

**Head to airport ASAP. Have you both on flight to Tokyo leaving at 8 PM**

_I thought Peeta was racing right now?_

**_Just finished. Should be able to make it if I don’t stick around for the end._ **

I feel awful, making him leave his competition early, but I don’t see how I have any choice. Instead of purchasing a souvenir or selecting a place to eat dinner, I find myself hurrying back to my room, calling the airlines again on the way and cursing automated phone lines. I luck out, there’s a van parked outside and I see my bright pink suitcase on the curb.

It hits me then. The excitement. Where I’m going and why.

“Awesome timing!” I shout as I greet the driver and shove a twenty in his hand and then hug him. “I’m sorry it’s American money. I wasn’t planning a trip to Canada. My sister’s gonna be in the Olympics!”

It’s a mad dash of redressing myself to be comfortable on the plane and not wearing the same thing I wore yesterday, checking out and waiting on my ride. Peeta texts when he’s on his flight to Vancouver. Gertrude sends flight numbers and a link for an app that translates using the camera, which she says will be helpful in Tokyo. I barely manage to fire off a text to Haymitch to let him know the change in plans, and before I can get one to Ryen or Katniss, I’m dealing with check in and baggage at the airport.

Then texting Peeta so we can find one another in the airport becomes more important than letting my sister and boyfriend know what’s going on. I catch smells of coffee that smell so good, but I’m afraid to caffeinate and keep myself awake the entire flight when I should be sleeping.

I keep checking Peeta’s flight and having to change gates to meet him. By the time I actually manage to make it to one, there are already people pouring up the jetway. I stand on my toes and search for him, almost falling over when someone taps on my shoulder.

“Peeta!” I say and throw my arms around him. It’s just so nice to see a friendly face. Not that people here have been unfriendly. I think it’s probably just more of what I was feeling last night, isolated and alone in a foreign country. Peeta’s familiar smile is the best thing I’ve seen all day. I’m relieved when he hugs me back with one arm, making me feel far less foolish.

“Hey, Prim. Good to see you again.” I laugh a little and let go of him. “You get something to eat?”

“Not yet. Didn’t want to eat without you.”

“There was no need to wait. Come on, let’s see if we can find something fast before we have to board.”

“In like twenty minutes,” I say a little breathless as he shifts his shoulder to reseat his bag and we start walking. It’s then that I notice he’s carrying a case of some kind. “Is that...your snowboard?”

“Yeah. And a few other things. How do you feel about oriental?”

“I feel like we’re about to have lots of authentic oriental so we should get something like a burger here. Why don’t you just check that thing?”

“Because I can't exactly pop into a store to buy a new one,” Peeta says with a chuckle. “Let’s see…” I watch as he searches through an app on his phone and then ushers me into a line. My mouth salivates at the smells. We grab it to go and eat while we’re in line to get on the plane. We could attempt to eat on the flight, but Peeta makes a valid point.

“Then we’d be juggling food and bags and getting into our seats, possibly having to make room for someone else to sit in our row.” Especially since he’s on an aisle and I’m the sandwich for this flight.

But the burger is so good and Peeta’s attentive as he asks about my short time in Canada, so the wait goes quick. And before we know it, we’re on the plane. I bounce a little in my seat as he takes care of putting bags and boards in the overhead bin. Then he sighs as he sits and rubs a hand over his right thigh.

“Excuse me,” I ask one of the attendants as she walks by. “Any chance we could get some ice in plastic bag? My friend here basically sprinted through two airports today after competing. He’s a snowboarder,” I whisper the last like it’s some kind of special secret. The woman’s eyes flick down to the fleece he’s wearing with the Olympic rings on one side of the collar and the Paralympic ones on the other side. Up at our aisle number.

“Sure thing, miss. It might take me a minute.”

“Of course,” I tell her and Peeta eyes me oddly for a second. “So how’d it go? I didn’t get a chance to ask you with all the mad dashing and burger scarfing.”

“Understandable. I barely had time to shower before I left.” I wrinkle my nose at this and lean back away from him.

“Did you at least use soap?” He laughs at that and nods. Talking about his race today fills the time during the rest of the preparations for flight. The attendant comes back with the ice and a smile.

A man apologizes five times as he squeezes past us to take the window seat. As soon as he’s settled, he puts on noise cancelling headphones and closes his eyes.

Right before they close the door, Peeta taps madly on his phone. I can’t help but peer over at what he’s typing.

**_Gertrude got us on flights out a day early_ **

I let my eyes wander to the top where, just as I suspected, I see my sister’s name. Then an idea hits me.

“Wait,” I say and put my hand on his arm to keep him from sending it. “I didn’t tell Ryen yet either.”

Peeta smiles slightly as what I’m saying sinks in. “We could surprise them.”

“And if something happens and we’re still late…” I trail off and Peeta finishes for me.

“Then at least we didn’t get their hopes up.” He erases his text and I swear I mean to look away as he types something else, but the entire string of rapid texts is too stinkin’ cute!

**_It’s a different day where you are so…_ **

**_I love you_ **

**_Also third in the cross. No world title this year._ **

**_But there’s always next season._ **

**_I’m blaming you for wearing me out. ;) And no, that is not a complaint._ **

I have to stifle a snort. He catches me looking and I just give him an unapologetic smirk.

“I’d rather not get cavities just from sitting next to you.”

“Right,” he says and his cheeks turn a little pink. “Sorry, it’s uh--” he stops talking as I tap my fist on his arm.

“Look, you’re probably going to be my brother one day so I am obligated to make fun of you.”

“That so?” he asks and I nod sagely. He shifts in his chair and taps his fingers on the armrest. “I don’t know how much she’s told you about what happened the past few days…”

It’s a pretty wide opening so I smile and shimmy back into my chair. “Enough to know that I never want to be in the same apartment as you two overnight ever again. And also you should consider teaching Ryen a few phrases. It’s about time he learned a third language, don’t you think?”

Peeta coughs awkwardly as the jets spin up and we back away from the gate. “Listen, about that. I’m really sorry about what happened a few days ago. I know Ryen was really looking forward to spending some time with you.”

“It’s okay,” I say with a shrug. “I still got to see him the next morning after I dropped Katniss and Haymitch at the airport.”

“Well that’s...good. He really cares about you, you know.”

I can’t help but snort at this. “I’m not sure he knows what to do with me. I mean, he knows what to _do_ with me but…” I trail off as Peeta laughs nervously and his cheeks turn really pink. “Oh no, not you too,” I accuse with a finger in his face that seems to surprise him. “None of that face. You two are completely oblivious about how vocal you are in bed. Or at least how vocal _she_ is.”

“Now I feel like I should be apologizing for that, too.”

“Probably. I could sooo milk this and pretend to be an innocent traumatized by everything that I’ve heard from you two,” I bat my eyelashes ridiculously at him and his blush clears as he laughs. “But I’m just happy that she’s happy.”

“You think Katniss is happy?”

“She is now,” I say meaningfully and wave my finger under his nose again. “I suggest you keep it that way.”

“I plan to,” he says with a sweet smile.

“Ugh, you two really are nauseating,” I complain and dig out my book as the plane turns at the end of the runway.

“Well what about you and Ryen?”

“Nauseating is not the word I’d pick to describe us.”

“Really? Because it can be nauseating listening to him talk about you,” Peeta says and the words swim on my page.

“That’s not -- I mean _we’re_ not…”

“Not what?” I don’t know how to answer and Peeta’s quiet for a minute as I stare at words I can’t read and he flips through music on his phone and gets out a set of earbuds. “Did you know for the first time in his life, Ryen apologized to me a few days ago? For making fun of me when we were kids and again recently.”

“That doesn’t sound right. He sent me this. Definitely making fun of you.” I show Peeta the last few texts from Ryen, calling Peeta “runt.” Then oddly, Peeta grins.

“See that’s why he apologized. He might have been the one pushing me to just tell Katniss how I felt when we were younger, but I think he saw it as almost a necessary part of growing up. I can’t even tell you how many times he ragged on me about Katniss when we were little. When he found out we’d reconnected last year, he picked right back up like ten years hadn’t gone by, making fun of me for panting after one girl for so long. My first crush, first kiss, first love. For just _knowing_ that she’s it for me. He’d always say it was fake, only in my head. Love like that doesn’t actually exist. No one winds up with their first kiss or first love. Actually, Graham and I were both the brunt of his jokes about being shackled, pussy-whipped, idiotic for falling for the first girl that kissed us, take your pick. He’s got an endless supply of quips.”

I shake my head, holding my breath as what Peeta’s saying sinks in and hits walls of self-protection.

“I’m not Ryen’s first anything. You know that, right?”

“Actually, Prim...I think you might be.” Peeta says and slips in his earbuds. “Like I said, he apologized for making fun of us all those years. Said he was starting to understand.”

The plane takes off and we both relax back into our seats. I read, he closes his eyes and his fingers tap the rhythm of whatever song he’s listening to on the ice pack on his leg. I’ve managed to read half a chapter when something he’s said crystallizes in my head.

“Wait!” I say and tug out one earbud. Peeta’s eyes fly open as he looks at me in surprise. “I thought Graham and Savannah were in their twenties when they met.”

“Nineteen and twenty,” Peeta corrects and I shake my head.

“Still. You said she was the first girl that kissed him?”

Peeta chuckles at this. “Yeah, you probably don’t remember, but Ryen had a field day with that and actually, that’s what led to Ryen’s arrest record.”

“His what?” I nearly screech and Peeta laughs gleefully.

“You don’t know about that? Oh man, this is gonna be a great flight,” he says and moves to put his earbud back in.

“No, you cannot say something like that and then not follow up with the story!”

“It’s a classic story, really. Ryen tried to make Graham look stupid. It backfired this time. I think it actually made Savannah fall harder for Graham than she already had.”

“Why do I feel like I should have popcorn for this?” I ask with laughter in my voice. “You have to share, Peeta!” I grab his arm and shake. I want these stories.

“Oh no,” Peeta says with a shake of his head. “Graham has to tell this story. It’s his shining moment of triumph.”

“He has an Olympic gold medal.”

“He’s also spent everyday since Ryen was born trying to stay one step ahead of Ryen getting himself in trouble or causing it for everyone else.”

“Peeta,” I whine pathetically but he just shakes his head again.

“Nope.” He reclines his seat back and starts humming.

“It's a long flight to Japan. I’ll get it out of you,” I mutter to no avail.

I read and eventually fall asleep. When I wake up, I’m wrapped in a blanket I don’t remember asking for. My book is tucked into the pocket in front of me and my head is resting on Peeta’s shoulder. It’s mostly dark and I can’t tell if he’s awake or not.

“You’re not a comfortable pillow,” I mumble as I shift around and he laughs.

“Does Ryen know that you snore?”

I gasp loudly and sit upright. “How dare you, sir!”

“Well if you’re probably gonna be my sister one day…” he throws my words back in my face and I jab at his shoulder until with a sigh, he moves his neck pillow over to his shoulder for me. “We’ll get you one while we’re in Tokyo.”

“Airport gift shops...good for something,” I mutter and he chuckles.

“Just be prepared to pay an exorbitant price.”

I sleep. Read. Munch on some snacks. Poke Peeta in the side like a pesky little sister and demand he tells me about Ryen’s arrest record, but he doesn’t budge.

“I will tell Ryen that Haymitch calls you ‘Cupcake.’”

Peeta just scoffs at that. “I can’t wait to see what Haymitch will call Ryen when he finds out about you two.”

Ah. Right. Maybe not the best approach there, Rosie.

“Ugh how do you guys do this all the time?” I ask when I wake up from a third attempt at sleep with my hair lopsided, and my back aching. Pretty sure I’m drooling, and even though I took a shower in Vancouver yesterday, I feel disgusting. My mouth is fuzzy, gross. Maybe it was two days ago when I showered? My bra is askew and I’m wondering if it’d be weird to fix it in front of my sister’s boyfriend/my boyfriend’s brother. Ugh time zones suck balls.

“Eh. You adjust and find tricks,” Peeta says then digs through his bag and hands me a package of wipes. “Here. These don’t dry out your skin as much. We’ll get some more water when we land in Tokyo.”

In the end, I use the lavatory and stretch my legs.

We land in Tokyo and spend a few minutes not moving, just texting and updating each other on who’s telling who what. Peeta lets Gertrude know where we are and that we’re keeping it a surprise from Ryen and Katniss. I tell Haymitch.

I catch glimpses of the bags being unloaded through the window and wonder out loud about them making it there with all the last minute changes to our itinerary. Peeta tries to reassure me and I relax and keep up the texting frenzy as we deplane. I do text Ryen and Katniss, not wanting to have complete silence with them.

**_Ugh is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?_ **

**_I feel like something crawled in my armpits and made a home_ **

**_Must. Have. Shower._ **

I complain to Katniss with a barf face emoji and then switch to my thread with Ryen, considering my options. Peeta’s been a fortress the whole flight, so I decide to poke elsewhere.

**_You failed to mention that you’re an ex-con._ **

Then we’re inside the Tokyo airport.

I know I must look like a wide eyed innocent, taking in everything that’s the same and everything that’s new. Just listening to the languages I can’t speak is an experience.

There are perks to travelling with Peeta, I discover very quickly. He keeps us moving towards our next gate without running into everyone, but also allowing me to look. He doesn’t make fun of me when my passport is stamped and I keep looking at it and squealing in excitement. Instead, he offers to take pictures of me with my phone to document my trip. He makes a game out of picking a neck pillow for me and a set of headphones for him since his got stepped on and crushed in the bustle to get off the plane. If I didn’t already know that brothers, at least the Mellark brothers, can be merciless with their teasing, I’d wish to actually have an older brother. Peeta makes it seem like fun.

Then again, perhaps he actually will be my brother soon. I hum a wedding march to myself as he sends off a few more texts to Katniss, a soft smile on his face.

And the food. The translator app Gertrude sent along with Peeta’s travel apps guide us to mouthwatering culinary oasis.

“I almost want to just stay here for two weeks and eat,” I admit and he laughs. His phone vibrates across our table and I tilt my head to look at the message.

**_You’re a fucking asshole. What did you tell her?!?!_ **

I duck my head and eat my noodles like they’re the best food in the world. Right now, they really are, but I’ve gained a massive interest in them right now.

“How’s this?” Peeta asks and nudges me to show me his response.

_Learned from the best_

I snort noodles and have to cover my mouth. I watch as Ryen responds:

**_Lavinia. Pregnancy scare._ **

“What’s that about?” I ask and Peeta asks me to hold on a second as he answers.

_Katniss already knows all about that, but thank you for playing. ;)_

I bounce my foot and elbow him. Before I can bug him, though, Ryen texts me.

**_Careful what you ask my brother about. I’d hate to have to use these on you…_ **

There’s a link and I follow it. Sex toy handcuffs. I laugh and shake my head.

_From the sound of things, I should be using them on you._

_And you whipped out that link awful fast there. Something you want to tell me about your kinks?_

**_Ever since the cock cage, my Amazon recommended for you suggestions have been very interesting._ **

I feel dirty almost sexting with Ryen with his brother right next to me and put the phone away for now. We have a little time to explore and freshen up. Time seems to drag in airports. We charge our devices as we sit at our gate and Peeta actually takes a nap.

I kick his foot to wake him when they announce boarding.

“Are you seriously using your snowboard as a pillow?”

“Hey these things aren’t cheap. Gotta protect them. Also it’s better than hugging them. That would just be weird.”

I laugh as we gather our things and then we’re on another plane making it seem so fast. Part of that is the anticipation. If we’ve timed this right, we’ll get off a plane and head straight to the opening ceremonies. It’s almost a blur until we’re in Korea and Savannah shouts to get our attention in the crowd, wrapping us both into a hug.

“You made it! How was the flight? Oh! Your bags! I’ve had about six cups of coffee today, don’t look at me like that, Peeta. The girls have been off the wall and it was necessary just to keep up with them.”

“Where are the girls?” Peeta asks as Savannah practically drags us to baggage claim.

“They’re with Graham and Brianna.”

As we wait, and wait, Peeta pulls out his phone and checks yet another app. “Great,” he mutters then tells me to look at mine, too.

“What is it?”

“This says my bag is in Vancouver still. No...now it says LAX?”

“How did it wind up there?” I ask as mine loads. “Mine’s in Tokyo.”

A quick check at the desk confirms one thing. Our bags are not in Korea.

“Well,” Savannah says once we finish filing our claim, “That’s all we can do for now.”

We do manage a quick stop in our rooms to drop off our carry-ons. Everyone else has already left for the Opening Ceremonies. I feel gross and really want a shower, but there’s not much time. We’re already cutting it close and are both breathless by the time we make it to the stands.

We’re greeted with loud cries and warm hugs, the show ignored momentarily. The girls almost tackle Peeta with stories. Haymitch holds me close and then mutters that I stink. I laugh as Eirik asks how the flights went and then shakes that question off before we can answer.

“Nevermind! You can tell us later! We have a call to make.” The entire group goes quiet, except for the girls who are still telling Peeta all about what they’ve done here the past few days. Eirik places the call and Ryen is quick to answer. I catch just a flash of three faces, though and smile as Gramps talks to them.

“Ah! I am so proud of you all.”

“Hey Gramps! No crying!” Ryen shouts and Eirik chuckles, the sound watery. But Ryen’s voice has caught Caitlin’s attention and she stands on toes to see the screen.

“Is that Daddy?” she asks.

“Yes! Yes! Come say hello! Quick before we are disconnected!” Eirik urges and waves the girls closer to him.

“Good luck, Daddy!”

“We love you!” They blow kisses and Graham gives them love right back before asking Savannah about us.

“Did you have any problems getting back from the airport?” Eirik pulls her closer so Graham can actually see her.

“Not too many problems,” she says. “Extra luggage has arrived safely. Mostly.”

“Extra luggage?” Ryen asks, and that’s the cue to hand the phone to Peeta. We smash ourselves together and I hold my breath.

“Oh my gosh!” Katniss yells and their phone jostles for a second. When it regains focus, it’s just Ryen and Katniss in the picture. “You made it!”

She’s misty eyed but smiling so wide. Ryen looks a little stunned for a second but then he’s smiling too.

“We did!” Peeta tells them

“Gertrude pulled some serious magic,” I say.

“She got me to Vancouver a day early, although it was a sprint to the airport after the races. Then she got us out of there on a couple of stand by seats through Tokyo first.”

“We have no idea where our luggage is, but we’re here!”

“I think the parade is about to start,” Haymitch interrupts. I’m not ready to hang up yet, but I know they have to go. I blow kisses and wave.

“Love you! See you soon!” I say.

“Love you! Love you both!” Katniss says back. Ryen doesn’t say a word. The screen goes black and Peeta nudges me. I hand Eirik’s phone to him and focus on watching the parade. I said the words as a general sort of thing and it was so easy. I love them both.

My eyes keep flicking over to Peeta. Maybe because he and Katniss had to wait so long to finally say it, know it. And not just their love for one another. This entire thing was something they’ve wanted for a long time. I can be brave too. I can stop diverting attention, changing the subject.

As I breathe in the frozen air, I search for the courage to say it just to Ryen later. Not because I want him to say it to me, although I do, but because I really do love him. Still, I could use some more courage. I glance over and see that Haymitch is busy talking to Eirik so I turn to Peeta, intending to ask him more about how Ryen sounds when they talked about me. What exactly they talked about.

But that’s when my phone rings.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey,” I say and have to plug my other ear to block out the stadium noises. I can barely hear him and it keeps cutting out.

“Rosie --- need to tell you -- I -- thought it --- too soon but--”

“What?” I ask. “I can’t hear you. What?”

It’s like a bad commercial as I speak a little too loud and draw a few curious gazes from our group.

“Wanted to -- just can’t ---” Ugh this is frustrating.

“I can’t understand you,” I say and manage to catch him cursing clear as day. “Can it wait?”

I’m about to hang up when there’s sudden silence and Ryen’s voice cutting through it loud enough to make me jump and hold the phone away from my ear.

“I’m in love with you!”

I can’t breathe. Peeta’s staring at me and so is Haymitch and Eirik and even Savannah as I slowly put the phone back to my ear and bite my lip to keep myself from crying.

“I love you, Rosie,” he almost whispers this time. “Think there’s still room on that door?”

I make the weirdest choking noise and all the lights in the stadium seem to blur in a kaleidoscope.

“I love you too, Ryen,” I say and ignore the sound Haymitch makes.

“Wait, seriously? You do?” Ryen asks, sounding shocked.

“Yes! I do! What did you think I was going to say?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m just...having a hard time believing this is really happening.”

“Well believe it.”

We have so much to talk about, but we won’t manage it here. Not with half his sentences garbled and half a dozen eyes watching me. I promise him we’ll talk tonight and then we hang up.

“You and me need to have a conversation, missy,” Haymitch says and my cheeks burn hot. Eirik shakes his head and chuckles. Then surprisingly, Savannah wraps her arms around me and gives me a hug.

“Let me know when he’s done lecturing. We’ll grab Katniss and have coffee and girl talk.” I nod at her suggestion and have to wipe away the tears forming in my eyes.

It’s so weird. Standing here in the cold and feeling so warm inside. Most of the time when I think of my family and our time living at Skadi before our parents died, it’s scenes like this. Yes, I think as I watch Peeta entertain two of Graham’s daughters, Eirik another and Haymitch actually talking to Savannah’s sister, Brianna. This is my family. I’ve missed them, even the ones I didn’t know until recently.

My phone vibrates in my pocket then and I squint at the message.

_Hello, Prim. It’s Graham. Welcome to Korea, hope you’re having a good time._

Another one comes as I open my phone, before I can respond to him or add yet another of my crazy family members to my contacts.

_Peeta said I should send this to you._

Okay….

I don’t have long to wait before a picture pops up and I laugh out loud. It’s a mugshot. Of Ryen. He’s a teenager in the picture and looks almost bored or annoyed.

_A face only you could love. ;)_

I tap the picture to enlarge it. Something about it snares my attention and I zoom in then elbow Peeta. He looks and snorts as I point.

“Is that a…?”

“Yep. That’s a hickey,” Peeta confirms. “He was on a date that night. Didn’t end well.”

I‘m transported back in an instant. So odd how clearly some memories stick with us. But I can hear my own sniffles as Ryen handed me a fresh cinnamon roll and I pointed to the weird shaped bruise on his neck.

“What’s that on your neck?” I can hear my nine year old self ask.

“Oh nothing. I got in a fight with a wild animal last night,” he’d said with a grin.

“Do you need a band aid too?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

I bite my lip and tuck the knowledge away. I’ll find out the story about what led to his arrest eventually but for now, I’m content with this. I vaguely recall that he’d gotten in huge trouble for something and had been confined to Skadi. That’s why he was there that day to make cinnamon rolls for me instead of off with his friends somewhere else. That day was the start of my crush on him.

**_Thank you for the ammunition_ **

I answer Graham and then Peeta elbows me, pointing to the entrance to the stadium.

“Representing the United States of America!”

A cheer rises up and I join in with my family.

 


End file.
